Always my Peeta
by CarterMulligan
Summary: Katniss realizes that Peeta means more to her than she could have ever imagined, and they share an unforgettable night in a cold, wet cave during their first experience in the Hunger Games. Rated M for a reason, BTW- this is not loveless.
1. The cave

Peeta's warm body protected me from the harsh winds that the Gamemakers just couldn't stop torturing us with. They obviously didn't want us outside at the moment, and if they did, they would surely be trying to kill us themselves. I wondered vaguely why they would do this, to torture Cato, or to just keep Peeta and I in the cave long enough to arouse the viewers. I hated this. I hated being watched every hour of the day. I am having a hard enough time figuring out my feelings for him, and when they're constantly watching us…it's even harder. Surely Cato doesn't have his own cave, and though I am not particularly fond of him, I feel awful for him, being out there in those harsh winds. No living being deserves that sort of torture, and I can barely imagine the _temperature. _

Peeta moves and I cling to his shirt, the moisture in my eyes no longer able to stop gushing out. He gives me an apologetic look before moving to the edge of the cave, shoving more rocks towards the small crack we use to get in.

"How will we get out?" I stutter, wiping my eyes and trying to act tough for the cameras.

"I found the camera they placed in here. I purposely put the rock in front of it, and they can't see us now. You can cry, sweetheart," he murmurs, pulling me into a warm embrace. I fall into his arms and cry my eyes out, the trauma of my being in the games finally catches up to me, and I completely lose it.

"I wanna go home," I sob, his arms tighten. I feel guilty, not only for using Peeta just to entertain the crowd, but continuing to do it. My debt will never be repaid, and I will always owe him _something. _As of now it's a shoulder to cry on.

"I know Katniss, we'll be home soon," he murmurs soothingly. I hold on to him tighter, wishing he were Gale but taking it back as the thought hits me. I realize I only want it to be Gale because I'm afraid to admit my feelings for Peeta. I love him, I honestly do, and it's scary feeling this close to another boy in my life that isn't Gale. His arms hold tenderness that Gale never had, a passion. Whereas Gale showed me affection, but now, as Peeta softly strokes my hair and whispers words of optimism in my ear like a lover should, the memory of Gale feels oddly hollow. Of course it was real, but when I think back, it seems mandatory, like he had been forced to comfort me in times of need. But now, Peeta does this as if it were his only job, his only assignment that he was absolutely determined to succeed in doing. And he was…he really was.

"Peeta…"

"Why don't you get some rest, I'll make a fire and we can have the rest of the stew," he says, letting go and turning to our little stash of food. Most of it was rabbits and squirrels but there was one wild bird I couldn't seem to name, almost like a turkey, and a wonderful meal Haymitch has awarded us with. Lamb stew and peaches, plus a loaf of bread and goat cheese. The best food either of us has had since the games started. I thought briefly of Cato out there, starving to death with nothing to eat but the falling sheets of hail and rain. Maybe even snow. But I hated thinking like that, so I told myself he was in a cave too, he was sheltered somewhere waiting for the storm to subside while he planned his final moves.

"Okay," I agree, reluctantly sliding into the sleeping bag and watching his every move. With one grunt of frustration and a flick of his wrist, he had sparked a fire. _Katniss, the girl who was on fire, _I thought to myself. Ugh, it seemed all ages ago. I am not the girl I was then. I was ignorant. I did not love Peeta Mellark, and now, the thought of losing him terrifies me.

"Here," he hands me a plate of food and we eat together in silence. And as I set it down, we jump at the sound of the cannon over the harsh winds. It must be Thresh. It has to be. Cato would never give up, and I just know that it was somehow only supposed to be just us in the end. Peeta stands and takes our cups with him, sticking his hand out a crack in the wall to fill them with water, and hands one to me before going back. I wonder what he's doing but then I hear the loud roar of the anthem. He closes his eyes and looks down, hurt. It's Thresh.

"Come here, Peeta, we need to talk," I say, holding my arms out.

"About what?" He sits next to me but I pull him into my arms, needing him and never wanting to let go. He climbs into the sleeping bag with me and the warmth of his body keeps me heated until the glow of the fire radiates throughout the cave, lighting it up and created a heated space.

"I don't know," I honestly say. He chuckles despite the dark atmosphere. "Do you love me?" I say. I look up at his face and he is caught by surprise.

"Of course," he answers after a moment, "I thought you knew that," he added. I nodded, pondering that. I was right; he was never faking like I was.

"I love you too," I tell him, the truth heavily coating my statement. He senses my sincerity. Suddenly, he lets his head fall back and groans with discomfort.

"What's wrong?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbow and looked him in the eyes.

"I…I'm just…," he trails off and gave me the same look. "I'm erect." To my surprise I actually burst out laughing. We're in a dreadful place, in a deathly situation, and yet we're unable to fight off our normal teenage…_urges. _It's comforting, a reminder that we ourselves won't be altered by the games. They can't break us.

"Peeta," I say again. He looks at me and waits. "Can they hear us…?" I wonder, getting the idea in my head that all I want to do is make love with Peeta. At least once before I die. He shook his head, clearly confused. I bury my head in his neck and start kissing the pale flesh. He moans and squeezes me tighter, but I can feel how he trembles when I touch him. It's so thrilling to do this, so against my nature in every way, it was so unlike me to want a boy I'd rebelled against for so long. How were we supposed to survive this together? I couldn't think about it, it was too painful. It was too painful to think about Gale as well. I just sighed and laid a few more kisses on his neck tenderly, following nothing but my heart.

He was new at this, and its obvious Peeta has never had a girl touch him like this before. I've never touched a boy like this, either; I was relying completely on instinct and raw feeling

"No, they can't," he tells me. "Why?" he asks, a tint of fear in his eyes.

"I…I just don't want them hearing us," I say, not sure exactly what we'll do. He waits, his eyes trailing down every now and then. He wanted it, too.

"I love you, Katniss," he murmurs before pressing his lips passionately to mine. This is our first real kiss, our first kiss that means something, our first kiss that we can experience _alone. _His lips part and I can feel his hot breath, his tongue sliding in my mouth, gently sliding against mine. I pull away to breathe.

"I love you too Peeta," I say, rubbing his stomach near his bellybutton. His head falls back again onto the clump of clothes that we use as a pillow.

"Please…touch me," he moans. And it startles me; it sends violent electric waves of shocking pleasure throughout my body. I nod and kiss him again, letting my hand slide down, pausing at the waistline of his pants.

"Are you sure?" I ask. He nods and gives me a weak but sure smile.

"Only if you're okay with it…and Katniss…I've never done this before… so please be careful..," he begs. I close my eyes and can't fight back the smile that twitches at my lips. The first time I've smiled out of happiness in months. I feel the intense pride that Peeta would trust me with this- his innocence, and also his first experience with pleasure. It gives me a feeling I'll never be able to describe. Then again, this is my first time having an experience like this, too. Peeta was my first kiss, and he will also be my first…how should I say this…partner? Love maker…yes. That will do. I move my hand further, going past the elastic band and adrenaline pumping through my veins at the thought of what he might feel like.

We both gasp as I touch his manhood; it's warm and hard, protruding proudly between his legs. He looks eager, but nervous, like me. Of course I'm scared, but I'm also excited to do this, the Games almost completely forgotten and the sound of the storm becoming soothing. The delicate drip of the raindrops and they slipped through the crack in the wall mingled with the sounds that Peeta made. The Gamemakers would be furious that we'd blocked their view, seeing as they're smart enough to figure out what we're doing. But I don't care, I've endured a lot, and I'm strong enough to fight off whatever they throw at me. But is he?

"Tell me what to do," I whisper, nibbling slightly on his earlobe. He shivers and his puts his hand down his pants to touch mine, gently gliding my fingers up to the tip and whimpering slightly before coming back down and then up again.

"Just like that… Ohh…" he bites his lip and takes his hand out, twining his fingers with mine.

"That feels good?" I wonder. He nods.

"Yes, it does. Please, go faster," he asks, his voice still heavily coated with innocence. I obey and wrap my fingers tightly around him, moving it up and down with ease, going all the way up and all the way down faster and faster with each movement.

He moans with urgency, "Oh, Katniss!" The butterflies gnaw at the inside of my stomach, ranging around my body with every movement. The sound of his pleasure catches me off guard, making me feel good in a way I can't understand.

"Open your eyes Peeta," I instruct. He does and looks at me with them; and the shining blue orbs I have come to get lost in are completely coated in lust and love. He moans again, and in turn I move faster, finally getting the hang of this.

His voice comes out in a jagged whisper, "Oh Katniss, this feels so amazing." He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, an adorable crinkle appearing on his nose, and a small whimper escaping his lips.

We do this for a few minutes, and soon I can feel him start to sweat, my hand becomes slippery and I can hear the soft tapping noises my hand makes on his crotch. His chest moves up and down and I let him close his eyes, his face permanently scrunched up and soft cries of euphoria escaping him

"Katniss! Oh please! Kiss me!" he begs after about another minute of rubbing. So I kiss his lips tenderly before he cries out, delicate whimpers fighting their way through his throat and giving me chills. I look down and he ejaculates onto his bare chest, cries of pleasure sending me over the edge and I squeeze him as hard as I can; only increasing it. He cries out again, this time it's my name.

I gasp and my eyes flutter open and my head his resting on Peeta's arm, my face buried in his neck. His arms are wound tightly around me and we're in my room, on the train on our way to the capital for our tour. We aren't in the games anymore…

"Katniss? It's okay, sweetheart, it was only a dream…," he trails off as he soothes me, but gasps wildly when my leg curiously rubs against his inner thigh as I sit up in a haste. Sure, I'm not the smoothest person in the world, but I had to know if I could make him aroused, really. Not because of our urges…because I know Peeta, and if he truly loves me, only I could have that effect on him. "Katniss!" he yelps again, this time more alert. He's erect.

"I'm sorry!" I tell him in response, wondering why on earth I did that.

"Why…?" he murmurs, slightly calming.

"My dream…I wanted to make sure it wasn't…I…," I trialed off. "I don't know."

"I thought…I thought you didn't-," I quiet him with a kiss, in which he eagerly returns.

"I love you, Peeta, I love you so much," I tangle my fingers in his soft blond hair and his lips feel amazing on mine, and these kisses are a thousand times better because I know we're safe now. He moves on top of me and he fits his body into my legs, the warmth of him overwhelming me. We fit so perfectly together, just kissing forever, hands gliding, memorizing. I know no one is watching us, and we can make love in peace. And because I know, the boy with the bread loves me too.


	2. Morning After

**The Train**

Sunlight pierced my eyes, representing the start of a new day. I sighed, groggy and hungry. I wanted breakfast; I wanted to be home so that I could make my own breakfast. I was sick of being served, I was sick of unfortunate avoxes being forced to get me whatever I wanted. They didn't deserve it as much as Peeta and I deserved to be in the games for the first time around.

Peeta…

The events of the previous night all rushed back to me in a hasty blur. I was naked, and as I glanced to my side Peeta was as well, his hair disheveled in a messy disarray of golden honey. He was curled up on his side, his hands underneath his head and his mouth hanging open slightly, a steady even breath clear as his chest rose and fell. My god…we'd had sex…

No. We'd made love. But was it a decision I'd made on impulse, an act of neediness emitted from my dream? Or had I really had an epiphany of love for Peeta Mellark…?

Whatever the reason, it had surely changed my life forever. I'd lost my virginity; to a man I knew I would have to be with forever. But…would it really be that bad? I knew Peeta would be good to me, I knew he loved me. He deserved everything in the world, and the only worry I had now was that last night wasn't a disappointment for him. I had hoped he wouldn't regret it. I don't.

It wasn't until I tore my eyes away from Peeta's face that I realized Cinna was chuckling in the doorway. My first reaction was to hide myself, until I realized it was nothing he hadn't already seen a million times.

"What are you doing in here Cinna?" I muttered a little too harshly, scrambling out of bed to snatch my clothes up from the floor.

"To inform you that we'll be arriving soon and you'll be needing some breakfast, and clothes for that matter," he stated, his expression smug. God, this was embarrassing. Not because he had known that I'd slept with Peeta, but because he was my closest friend, at least one of the only people I trusted, and he knows how much resentment I had first held for Peeta. Now I was making love with him. The sudden change in my personality startled me, and for him to know it was well was uncomfortable.

He sensed my discomfort and nodded before his departure, closing the door behind him to give us privacy. I knew that nobody else would simply walk in on a closed door, except for maybe Haymitch, but I was positive Cinna would warn him beforehand.

I turned to Peeta once more, contemplating on whether or not I should wake him. I figured dressing first was a good idea. But knowing that Cinna would be redressing me later meant that only sweats and a simple t-shirt were necessary. After pulling my hair into my braid to keep it out of my face and hide the mess that had been caused by last night's…events… I gently touched his shoulder. He didn't budge.

"Peeta, wake up," I urged, shaking him. He sighed, yawning and stretching his arms up above his head. When his beautiful blue eyes met mine, I was reassured. I loved him, this was going to work.

He smiled, tenderly brushing his fingers against my cheek and kissing my forehead.

"Good morning my love," he told me, obviously thrilled that he could now do it in the privacy of our own space, and that his words held a significance for both of us. They meant something now, not only for him but for me.

* * *

><p>They served grapefruits and custard-tarts for breakfast this morning. Honestly I thought it was great, one of the best meals I've had in a long time. It seemed Peeta liked it as well, or it could've just been the morning-after smiles. I was glad not only that he didn't regret it, but that I was able to enjoy the frothy warm feeling in my stomach as well. If I could change what'd happened, I wouldn't.<p>

"So Peeta, you slept in Katniss' room last night?" Haymitch asked, placing a grape in his mouth with a shiny black fork. Peeta was silent, and he looked at me expectantly for guidance. He knew me a little to well.

"Yes, is that unnatural?" I replied, all eyes on Peeta and I. They all knew that Peeta slept in my room every night, but Haymitch had pointed it out, so there was a shift in the atmosphere. Something was up.

"No, I guess there isn't." And that was the end of it.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence and eating Cinna escorted me away to be dressed for our arrival in District 11.

* * *

><p>My head is spinning with images, thoughts, worries. I didn't want to be here, the only thing keeping me from noticing Cinna undressing me was his constant chatter about how quickly we must act, because district 11 was nearing. I had been so worried about how I would convince everyone that I was so madly in love with Peeta. Now I was, so it should be easier right? So why doesn't it feel like it...<p>

"Three, two, one..." _Rip! _

"Ow! Cinna, you could've warned me!" I scolded, rubbing the now hairless spot on my leg.

"Did you not hear me counting?" He chuckled. I shook my head, looking at myself in the mirror. What about me had made Peeta want to make love with me? I can't find myself repulsive, but certainly not inviting. Or maybe he just saw that Katniss that Cinna knew how to dress up, the one that could only be cured with make-up and pretty dresses.

"Katniss, are you ready for the second one?" Cinna's voice shook me from my thoughts again.

"When are you dressing Peeta?" I asked.

"After I'm through with you. Are you ready?"

I nodded, though the double meaning in his words told me that I wasn't. _Rip!_

_"_Ow...," I moan. Cinna winced.

"I'm sorry."

My mind couldn't stop racing. For a reason I didn't want to think about I couldn't shake the feeling from my mind that I got when Gale had kissed me in the woods. It felt like so long ago...

I think about when I had been visited by President snow, about how he had blackmailed me into falling for Peeta. Poor Peeta...he didn't deserve this.

_"I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districs," he says. _

"_It will be the same on the tour. I'll be in love with him just as I was," I say. _

_"Just as you are," corrects President Snow. _

"Just as I am," I murmur.

"What was that?" Cinna asks, looking up at me from his work on my legs.

"I'm in love with Peeta, Cinna, and I can't figure out why the hell I am," I tell him.

He laughs. "Of course you are. I've known since the first time you saw him."

"How could you know! I didn't even know! There's no way...," I exclaim, knowing there's no way he could be serious right now. Oh Cinna, don't make me regret telling you this.

"I thought your prep team already cleaned you up!" Cinna exclaims, ripping another chunk of hair off. "It's not like them to miss this much...," he trailed off.

"I think they were just a little excited," I murmured, half of my sentence coming out in a whisper. He sensed the helplessness in my voice and finished doing what he was doing, setting me up on the bed and softly running a comb through my hair.

"Portia!" Cinna shouts. I groan, I don't want more people in here. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, "so Haymitch tells me that you had a conversation with him last night, when we stopped for fuel?" I nodded, remembering.

"I guess it's not as bad as it was then...but I just hate what they're doing, I hate how I can't make decisions for myself Cinna, I hate it!" Tears streamed down my cheeks and Portia sighed as she entered the room.

"Come on, you'll have time for emotion later, you can't mess up that beautiful face _now!_" She starts wiping the wetness from my cheeks and steals the comb from Cinna, muttering something about doing it wrong and that hair was not something for a man to be in charge of. "Go get her clothes," she instructed. He obeyed, and I smiled politely at her.


	3. This is how I feel

"You ready sweetheart?" Peeta murmurs as we're reunited again before our arrival in district 11. I nod, sighing slightly, but unable to stop smiling; I loved when he called me sweetheart, it made me feel so safe.

"Ready for our first stop? Or ready to admit that I'm in love with you?" I asked, and I could tell my question had caught him off guard. I could feel him start to get cautious, and I reassured him with a kiss. This would be the millionth time I've kissed Peeta, but the first knowing exactly that I knew it was what we both wanted. Last night was the best night of my existence. He moaned slightly and pulled away with a sigh.

"You continue to surprise and amaze me Katniss, and you know I love you right?" he whispered, stroking my cheek delicately with his fingertips. The action rose goosebumps on my arms.

"I love you too," I answered, trying to contain myself.

"But do you...?" he wondered, dropping his hand.

"Do I what?" I pushed. What could he possibly be unsure about?

"I didn't lose my virginity last night just to please the capitol...did I?" he asked, settling down on the bed and looking up at me with those eyes, those beautiful pure eyes. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair, stopping as soon as I realized that touching it would mess it up and Cinna and Portia would murder me. It hurt that Peeta would suggest that, that Peeta is confused about what we did last night. I sat next to him and touched his shoulder.

"No, it wasn't for the capitol. It was for us...love," I explained. He sighed and kissed me urgently, passionately.

"Thank god! What made you change your mind? What made you want to? I mean, what made you love me?" his last question was asked softly, he was legitimately curious, but I could still feel the relief coated heavily on his tone. Had I really defiled Peeta this much? Would he really consider that I'd do that to him for the viewers and Snow?

"I've always loved you," I murmured, realizing that Cinna had been so right. "I've loved you since the day you gave me bread. It's just, I, I mean, Gale...he got in the way of that...," I trailed off. I could've left Gale out of this.

"I get it," he whispers, "you love him."

"But I'm not _in _love with him," I explain, looking him in the eyes. "I'm in love with you!" He smiled uncontrollably. I've never seen a boy this happy, and it made me feel happy that I could do this. I can do this...

I didn't know if I could face Rues home, her family. I feel as though I'd let her down, and that I didn't deserve the praise they were going to give me.

As the speaker in my room comes to life we're informed that we're nearing the district and will be there shortly.

"I'm sorry Peeta," I whisper, feeling tears form in my eyes. What was wrong with me, why do I always cry? He hugs me tightly and strokes my hair, repeating _shhh_ over and over again.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because I hurt you! I should've let you know what was happening when we first went into the games." He knew what I'd been talking about.

"It's all over now. Do you wanna talk about something else?" he suggests, wiping the tears off of my cheeks. I smiled at him, so thankful. I looked down, noticing the dull color of his artificial leg. It made me upset all over again, I hadn't noticed he wasn't wearing it last night.

"Does it ever hurt?" I asked, stroking it, admiring the top-notch quality that the capitol had provided for him. I hated it.

"No. It's kind of like hair, you cut it, and when you reach up to touch it it's just gone. Useless." He looked at it with me. "I don't regret anything that happened. Everything that happened in that arena happened for a reason, happened because if it didn't, we both might not be alive," he explained with a warm smile. I looked up at him, into his hopeful eyes.

"You didn't have to be hurt to be where we are," I murmured, touching his chest, his thick muscles sculpted underneath the warm pale flesh.

"Yes I did," he whispered. "If I hadn't the audience wouldn't have had so much sympathy for us, it would've never given us the time to bond that we needed," he told me.

" 'We'?" I quoted suspiciously.

"Well, technically _the_ viewers, but personally it's always been about you and I," he smiled, kissing me gently. He cupped my face in his hands, his beautiful artists hands cradling me as if I were a delicate diamond. Artist... I hadn't yet seen his art! I couldn't imagine anything other than the tiny pictures he'd had on cookies, and the believable scenery painted on his body as he hid from Cato in the games.

"Why haven't I ever seen your paintings?" I wondered, pulling away and grinning at the surprised look on his face.

Shrugging, "you never seemed interested before."

"Well I am," I smiled, and he took my hand eagerly.

"Follow me."

* * *

><p>He watched my reaction as I observed all of his paintings. They were gruesome, the detail exquisite and the realistic quality of it terrifying. Everything represented on these canvases were a part of my past, a part of his past. They were the games. They were the Cornucopia, Clove placing knives in her jacket, the mutts...those terrifying mutts...one in particular. The blond, green-eyed one meant to be Glimmer, and <em>me. <em>I was everywhere! I couldn't believe how many paintings of me Peeta had magnificently brought to life.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"I hate them," I say. He's quiet. I turn and look at him. "I've spent so many nights trying to escape the games, and here they are. How do you remember them so clearly?" I wonder, taking his hand and kissing it, trying to cheer him up.

"I see them every night," he whispers. I sighed and hugged him, holding him tightly and burying my head in his neck as he was slightly taller than me. I inhaled his scent, treasuring him.

"They're extraordinary, Peeta, really," I say.

Effie bursts in the door and groans.

"You guys! I've been looking everywhere for you!" I chuckled at her always hilarious accent and worried appearance. "I don't see how this is funny in any way," she scolded, hurrying us out of the train car and into a new one. "I found them!" she calls to everyone else and they all rush to me, muttering unintelligible words and demands.

"Why don't you ever do this to him!" I whine, pointing at Peeta. He grins that beautiful smile and I'm overwhelmed with pride. He's mine. Peeta Mellark is _mine_.

"Because Peeta knows what to do, unlike you and your constant act of defiance against anything fun," Effie mutters, shooing everybody away but backing up as Cinna takes his place in front of me. He starts to make the finishing touches on my outfit, placing the mockingjay pin to my dress and adding a metallic gold headband to my getup. He's quiet, and I'm grateful, he's the only one on this train that gets me.

Eight peacekeepers are waiting for us on the platform in the station, and they direct us into the back of an armored truck. Effie looked uncomfortable, and as I laughed I realized exactly how greatful I was that I wasn't crying right now. It was as if Peeta had made everything right in me.

Soon the truck arrives at the Justice Building and we're hurried inside, the food and welcoming committee all very inviting. But there's no time to stop and admire the workings of this ancient building, and we make our way to the front entrance, the sound of the anthem roaring in our ears. There are flashbacks from my dream, from the cave, and it's as if my eyes have been opened. I've never felt so lucky to be alive. To have my friend with me, the boy with the bread. Someone places a microphone on my dress and Peeta grasps my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It's then that I start to feel the panic. I smile as he pecks my cheek. What would I do without him?

"Big smiles!" Effie encourages, nudging us onto the stage through the massive doors after the mayor introduces us. I think to myself _this is it, this is where I have to convince everybody how in love I am with Peeta. _

It shouldn't be too hard...I did love him, anyway. He was everything, he was everything that I'd been silently missing my entire life.


	4. Peeta

**Peeta**

I gulped at the sight of Rues family, and Threshes. They were both stationed at the platform directly in front of the stage. I wasn't prepared to face them. Soon, the massive crowd that was not nearly as large as the entire population stopped cheering. I look down apologetically at Rue's family, their faces filled with grief and sorrow, her five younger siblings resembling her so closely and yet looking as though everyone of them had their own story, their own passions, but one shared loss.

The mayor begins his speech of honor, and Peeta drags my attention away from the poor family before I can start crying. I have to play it happy. Two little girls scramble up to the stage with a huge banquet of flowers.

Peeta replies as he rehearsed and I continue his thanks with my part of the script, a feeling of emptiness washing over me.

* * *

><p>"So what's your favorite color?" he smiles, crossing his arms and leaning back against the pillows.<p>

"Green, and yours?" I reply, taking his hand, needing the physical comfort. Once we'd returned from District 11 I had gone into shut-out mode (as Peeta calls it), and wouldn't speak to anyone. I had retreated to my room immediately, fighting off the urge to break down in tears. I missed Prim, oh god I missed Prim so much, and my mother. And...Gale. But I was in love with Peeta, and I was going to be with Peeta forever despite my current 'want' status.

"Orange," he replied. I chuckled."What?"

"Nothing, it's just odd," I shrugged. He squeezed my hand affectionately.

"I don't see how that's so odd."

"I can't think of anything but Flavius," I chuckle, thinking about his bouncy orange hair. Peeta smiled at me and I felt as though I would die if I didn't get in his head. I moved from sitting in front of him to beside him, unable to bear the distance.

"It's supposed to be more along the lines of the sunset, or the sunrise, either will suffice." He took my hand and kissed it, making my heart melt.

"I need you Peeta...," I whispered, the memories from last night all rushing back to me.

"In what way?" he answered back, his voice falling as well.

"In every way." He looked at me, his eyes thoughtful, holding a thousands memories, a thousand dreams, a thousands losses. Just like every soul in Panem. But he was different. I couldn't put my finger on it and I couldn't back it up with any important proof, but he was. Peeta Mellark was different. I tangled my fingers in his hair and we lost ourselves in a kiss. Our millionth kiss, but still it felt like the first. It felt like this boy had waltzed into my life and saved me, and he has, so many times. How will I ever thank him for the things he's done for me?

I think about today about how I had witnessed one of the most disgusting things of my life. Peacekeepers shooting a man from Rues district in the head for whistling her song. I know that tonight I'll most likely have nightmares about it. I don't know why I was kissing Peeta this way, I didn't know if it was to fill my head with something different, or if I truly wanted to make love to him. I told myself that I wouldn't use his body until I knew that it wasn't for any other reason other than love. I wouldn't ever do that to him. That was too far.

"Peeta?" I whispered, pulling away. I know we were both surprised by our lack of breath. I was starting to get light-headed. Had I really been so consumed that I didn't notice I couldn't breathe?

"Yes?" he whispered back. I sighed, oh god, I loved him so much.

"Will you make love with me?" I breathed, kissing him again and again. I felt the need to make love with him, to be a whole, to let him know exactly how much I love him.

"Okay," he says. I think for a moment, and gesture to his leg. "I should take it off shouldn't I." It was more of a statement than a question. I kissed his lips gently and he removed his artificial leg, gently propping it up against the wall at the north side of the bed.

"Can you take your shirt off?" I whispered, knowing that by now a lot of the blood in his body must be flowing south. He nodded and it came off, his toned yet slender chest just icing on top of my cake. He chuckled at me, gesturing to my mouth, which I just realized was hanging open.

"I never really knew I was _this _attractive," he murmured as I pressed my lips against his once more.

"Attractive doesn't do you justice, Peeta," I told him in between kisses. He moaned quietly and I straddled him, pinning him against the pillows and pressing my lips against him harder and harder, more passion. I needed more passion, and he was giving that to me. After a few minutes he pulled away, breathing erotically and rubbing my sides, my legs, my shoulders.

"It is normal to be scared your second time?" he panted, whispering as well. I looked into his eyes, glazed over with fear. I couldn't think of anything but to hug him, to just rub his back and say that it'll be okay. But I have no proof of that. Who's to say that Peeta was ready when had first lost our virginity together? I felt bad all of the sudden, I should have never rushed into it like I did, it wasn't just about me. It was Peeta too, and I didn't respect him when it came to who's ready and who's not.

"Yes, you know we don't have to do this," I suggested. He took a deep breath and shook his head, giving me an encouraging smile.

"No, I want to, I'm just a little nervous about...," he trailed off. I cupped his face in my hands, suddenly realizing where this fear had originated.

"You know there aren't cameras," I whispered, stroking his cheek delicately with my fingertips.

"Yeah, I know, I just can't shake the feeling that everything we do people will know about," he told me. I nodded.

"I know, I get that same feeling. But I promise you, anything we do together is for us, and only us," I reassured him. He breathed slowly, wincing suddenly, readjusting himself beneath me. I chuckled, it was time.

"Katniss, I'm kinda-," he started, but I interrupted him with my lips against his.

"Shhh, I know. Get under the covers, that way you can be reassured no one is watching," I instructed. "It's only you and me Peeta."

"I love it when you say my name," he murmurs, and I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. He starts to remove every peace of clothing perfectly and gets through with my entire upper torso before pulling the blankets over us. "God, your so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling himself on top of me and kissing down my chest between my breasts. My breathing hits a spike and I feel him smile.

"Peeta! Just make love to me already," I beg, and he comes back up, kissing along my neck and my jaw, teasing me until he reaches my lips. I've never wanted anyone so badly before in my life, much less wanted anyone at all.

It's only a matter of time before he's sliding my pants off, like he's done it his entire life. Or maybe he just has more confidence than I gave him credit for. More confidence than I have myself, because he undresses himself as well.

"Peeta...," I whisper. He moans as he slips inside me. "Peeta!" I gasp and he groans again, holding me tightly to him, his face buried in my neck and my arms wrapped tightly around his. I don't have time to register what's happening before he's moving, and his kissing me. I can't do anything but cry his name, the pain only just tolerable. But this was love, and it was incredible because he was incredible.

"Oh, Katniss," he panted, gently thrusting into me with heated passion. He pulled back and I looked at his eyes, seeing my entire past in his iris', all down to the moment where he first spared me food. I saw both of our pasts, combined into one life, one soul.

He tenderly wiped the tears that streamed down my cheeks with steady fingers. "Does it hurt you sweetheart?" he whispers.

"Yes, but please don't stop, I'll get used to it soon," I answer, holding his face in my hands, touching him, learning him.

"Okay, I love you Katniss," he tells me.

"I love you too."

I memorize the curve of his lips, how his eyelashes frame his crystal clear blue orbs, the pale skin I have come to love so clear.

We continue making love for what seemed like hours, and soon I become numb to the pain, like the constant movement of Peetas manhood inside of me wasn't new anymore. I was immune, and I could focus solely on Peeta and the pleasure that this caused him. He would moan and sometimes whimper, depending on his speed. It seemed like every moment we spent doing this I only knew him more, I only knew what he wanted, what he needed, and how we could both make each other happy.

I couldn't get rid of the butterflies in my stomach, the unexplainable pleasure I got from knowing that he felt good. I liked it when he went faster, because if felt better for him, so that's what I begged him to do.

"Come on Peeta," I urged, starting to moan, because it felt good for me as well. Having him inside me was amazing enough. He gasped, his hands shooting up to my shoulders, holding me so god damn tightly.

"Katniss, I'm gonna...Katniss..." I silenced him. He whimpered into the kiss and I wrapped my legs around him tighter, encouraging him on. Then he didn't pull out, he pushed in as far as he could go and threw his head back with a wild gasp.

I could feel the pleasure radiating off of his body, his arm and back muscles trembling in ecstasy. He squeezed his eyes shut and tears sprang loose, the blood from his lips appearing as well. The low cry in the back of his throat was the only sound he could afford to make on this train. Any other sound would have woken everybody up. His body pressed against mine was warm, the slight perspiration of his hard work coated on him and slightly I.

I ran my thumb in circles over his lips, urging him to stop biting them. Eventually, it was over and he released his lips, which I soon captured for a passionate kiss. I tasted Peetas blood on them. He soon fell still in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder and his breathing evening out.

I nudged him gently and he pulled out, rolling off to the side and pulling me into his arms.

"You never cease to amaze me, Katniss," he murmurs before we fall into a blissful sleep.


	5. Unfulfilled Teases

**Hey guys so I just wanted to ask for your feedback on this one, maybe make it longer, shorter, ehh..? Sexier...? Ya never know. **

**Also, I just wanted to let y'all know that mayb****e puttin them on the train wasn't such a good idea, seein how a****ll of my future chapters take place in the victors village. So, jus warnin, if I skip ahead to post-mockingjay don't be surprised. What I'm wonderin is if you guys would prefer that...? Following Catching Fire doesn't seem like the easiest or most creative thing in the world, so ya. **

**Lemme know, and read on!**

**Chapter Five**

**Unfulfilled teases**

"Cinna, I need a favor," I started, settling myself down one the pale leather couch in his room.

We had arrived in district two, our tour going by faster and faster now that I had conquered seeing Rue's family and the apparent uprising in District Eight. I knew that I'd caused it, I just knew it. But I knew Gale would be proud of me. That is, if he found out about the uprising.

The mayor of the district offered to let us stay the night there, and attend a party later on that evening to meet some of the producers that helped film the Games. It was a horrifying idea, and I was about to beg for my life to the only person who had control over that, or maybe Haymitch if Cinna hotel that we were staying in was huge, and I almost got lost venturing to Cinna's room from mine.

"First, I'd like your opinion on this, and you should like it because you designed it," he said with a wink. He then held up a long black gown, ruffling out towards the bottom and strapless on top and a simple shiny belt hooking around the front with a bow. It was elegant and marvelous and he was going to make me wear it.

"It's beautiful...why did you make it?" I wonder, hoping that I wouldn't get the answer I knew was coming.

"You're gonna wear it tonight Katniss, oh and you'll love Peeta's! It matches but still I added some pretty unique tweaks to it," he smiled, turning it around on the hanger so that I could admire the dress from a different angle.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," I started. He turned and put the hanger back in his closet, sliding the door/mirror closed.

"About what? You're dress? I doubt you came all the way _out of your precious confinement _to talk about clothing with me," he crossed his arms and stood dubiously in front of me. "You wanna see Peeta's?" he offered. I shook my head.

"I'll see it tonight I guess."

He sighed, "so why did you really come in here?"

"I wanted to ask you...," I trailed off, finding my courage. My words came out in a haste, doubt heavy, "can you please excuse me and Peeta from the party tonight!" I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for my no.

"Katniss the mayor is throwing this party for _you!_ The only thing that would happen from you not attending is that you piss of President Snow. You know how that ends," he grumbled, laying back on his grand bed, the sheets woven together with golden thread. It wasn't like my room, the color scheme was aqua blue and light gray, but the carpets in both rooms were milky white. When I think about it, this is the first time I'd ever seen Cinna relax. It was odd.

"But tonight...Peeta and I...we needed some alone time," I explained, hoping I wouldn't have to continue further. Peeta was tired of biting his lips, and quite frankly I was too. When we make love, I want us to be able to let loose, show each other what all we have to offer, not bite our lips and hope that the rest of the train doesn't hear us moaning.

Realizing struck his features and he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his temples.

"Now's not the best time to fall in love with Peeta," he murmured. I groaned.

"How am I supposed to help that! It's like you said, I've been in love with him my entire life." Cinna sat up and placed his elbows on his knees, looking at me, studying me, scrutinizing me. Normally I would've gotten self conscious, but this was Cinna, the first man to ever see me naked. And he's seen it a thousand times. It wasn't like when Peeta looks at me...with firey blue eyes and screaming passion...

After what seems like an eternity of silence he finally speaks. "Fine. You may leave the party a few hours early, complain of stomach cramps or something," he suggests. I nod, glad to have him suggest an excuse so that I wouldn't have too. "Do you have any protection?" he asked. I thought about it. No, we hadn't used protection. Oh god! How stupid could we have been!

He saw the fear in my eyes and sighed, standing and reaching around in his suitcase underneath his bed. He held up a small black square between his middle finger and his index finger. I took it gratefully and hugged him before turning towards the door.

"Take your dress," he says, "be ready in an hour, and tell Peeta to come get his suit," he instructs. I nod, draping the scary black dress over my arm. I know I would probably put it on wrong and Cinna would have to fix it for me.

"Are you doing my makeup too?" I wonder, just making sure. He nods.

"In an hour. Be ready."

* * *

><p>"You're trying to kill me," Peeta murmurs as I step into the room, my room. I had dressed in the bathroom, force of habit, and left him waiting on the bed.<p>

"How so?" I ask, looking down. Sure, the dress is beautiful, but me?

"Look at yourself!" he stands and gets behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders and guiding me towards my mirrored closet door. "You're stunning," he whispers, resting his chin on the top of my head as he looks at me in the mirror. I sigh and turn to face him, unable to look at my simple-self anymore.

"I'm too scarred," I tell him.

"So am I. I don't have half my leg Katniss, you don't call that scarred?" he questions, gesturing to his fake leg which was covered with Cinnas brilliant suit. It was black all over, but the vest underneath was shiny black, a silver chain hung from his pocket over the left part of his chest in his vest and connected to his back, where magenta designs were beautifully interwoven in a way only Cinna could make. The tie was the same color; magenta.

I shook my head, he'd misunderstood. "I meant emotionally."

"Katniss...," he started. I stopped him though, knowing that I would lose this argument. He wrapped his arms around me and sighed, looking into my eyes as if there was something to see. I locked my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his, as if to tease myself, to tell myself that I couldn't have him now. I would have him later though.

He moaned.

I reached inside my bra and pulled out the condom Cinna had given me, hoping that it didn't look to bad from Peetas point of view. I had rehearsed this a million times in the bathroom, because seducing a man wasn't exactly my strong point. Though I never really had to seduce Peeta, he loved me and we both had equal views on what we wanted.

"God Katniss, you're _really_ trying to kill me," he growled, pushing me up against the wall a little too roughly and kissing me once more, trailing heated kisses down my neck and to my collarbone. I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair, his incredibly soft hair.

Knocking at the door.

Peeta sighed and pulled away, easily though, so he still wasn't aroused. Or at lease he hadn't let himself get that way. Before Peeta could get the door Cinna came in holding up a huge bag of what I guessed was my accessories and makeup.

Pretty Katniss in a bag.

I set the condom on the desk next to my bed and sighed to Cinna.

"Shall we get this over with my darling?" he suggested, waving me over the the couch.

* * *

><p>I always wondered why, where ever we went, all of the eyes would be trained on me. Why wouldn't they be on Peeta? Why me? Why was I the girl on fire, while Peeta was the boy with the bread? Maybe it's because I had nothing when I entered the games, and Cinna had to give me something, had to give me an identity. Fire. That was who I was. Peeta was the kind one, the generous one, the one who went into the games knowing who he was and who he wanted to die as. He was simply Peeta.<p>

"Hello, Katniss." The mayor interrupted my thinking. I looked up and gave him the best smile I could, but there was no truth in it. Thankfully though, he hadn't noticed.

"Hello, are you enjoying the party?" I asked, trying to make small talk.

"Absolutely, I threw it didn't I?" He laughed. "The question is, are you?"

I nodded, "of course, very fine." I answered, another fake smile.

"I hope it's to your liking. I hear you're much harder to please than your partner," he winked and turned, leaving a gaping hole in my face that was my mouth. Did I really come off as that stale and monotonic?

I turned and rested my gaze on the colorful fruit spread out on the table.

"May I have this dance?" I nodded and took his hand.

"Do you think I'm...hard?" I wondered, not noticing the swift movement of his feet and the way he led me around the dance floor. Like a pro. But of course, Peeta has to be good at dancing. He's gentle, thoughtful.

"Meaning?" he questioned, dipping me unexpectedly. I breathed heavily once he brought me upright, chuckling.

"I mean, do think I look like I'm hard to please?" I didn't know how to phrase it right, and I hoped he wouldn't take it a different way.

"You mean...in bed...or...," he was lost. I sighed.

"Just in general. The mayor basically told me that he didn't want to displease me, he thought this party wouldn't be good enough. Do I come off as that type?" I asked. "I know, if there's one thing I know about myself, that I'm not picky or snooty." I concluded, wondering how the mayor got it in his head that I would be harder to please than Peeta. Maybe because Peetas the polite one.

"No, I think you're pretty well-mannered. But it's hard to get in your head, and sometimes you come off like you would rather be anywhere else then where you are," he shrugged.

"But I usually do! It's like they expect us to like this stupid tour," I muttered, looking down at our feet, which had stopped moving. He lifted my chin up with his finger, his eyes smoldering into mine.

"We're in this together okay?" I nodded, smiling slightly, the first real time I've smiled since we'd first made love, with was nearly a month ago. Since then we'd only made love once more, and being together longer, becoming more familiar with each others bodies...well it made me want. I don't know if he had the same intentions for tonight, but he knows we're leaving early. He's smart enough to figure it out, and he goes willingly, I'll know that I'm not the only one craving passion. I wanted him. I needed him. It wasn't his body, it was his love, and I missed how he would show it to me so dearly.

"You ready to keep dancing?" he laughed, holding my hand and my waste, waiting for me to come back into reality.

"I love you, do you know that?" I told him, hugging him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Of course, I love you too," he answered back, confused, but definitely not opposed to public displays of affection.

I sighed, and we began dancing again, his gentle arms encasing me, rocking me slowly back and force. It wasn't until I was shaken that I realized how tired I was, I had nearly dosed off.

"Cinna, I think Katniss is about to die on her feet," I cringed and rubbed my eyes, suddenly remembering the makeup. Oh well, it sounds like Peeta is taking us away anyway. How long has it been since we've been here? Two hours? I heard his voice speaking above me as my ear was pressed against his chest. I was only slightly tired, but acting exhausted to enforce our excuse. "I think it's time for us to retire for the night," he concluded. I heard several farewells and Peeta turned me towards the exit to the lobby, where we'd escape up to our room. We were nearly out until we were stopped.

"Leaving so soon?" I groaned to myself. Damn that mayor. "I haven't yet gotten the chance to dance with that pretty lady you're hurrying away!" he chuckled. Peeta laughed respectfully.

"I barely have either, but I'm sure we can arrange something for you before we head to district one." I looked up at Peeta, a damn good smile on his face. The mayor had no chance but to melt around his wishes, and nod before turning to leave.

After that interruption we made it out clearly.

"Please tell me you're not really exhausted?" he pleaded, stroking my face with his fingertips as the elevator doors closed. I sighed and looked up at him. He laughed. "You've ruined your makeup." I groaned and rubbed my eyes, giving up on my attempt knowing I'd only made it worse.

"I guess I am, but I'm counting on you to wake me up," I say.

* * *

><p>I knew Peeta was masturbating, and I didn't know what to think of it as I cleaned myself up in the bathroom. I guess I thought it to be sexy and beautiful, but since I'd never really experienced it myself, I can't really be so empathetic.<p>

My eyes were rimmed in black and looked terrible. Why do I have to put this stuff on my face to be beautiful? What's wrong with natural?

I used a warm wash cloth to wipe it off, leaving me with red rimmed eyes. Oh well, Peeta will still love me. He'll still make love to me all night...but how will he do that if he brings himself only that much closer to his release already? While I'm not even in there, I'm in here, away from him. Butterflies shot through my stomach, and I flicked the light switch off, hurrying into the room where I knew he was.

And he was. He was moving, his pants pulled down to his ankles, his vest unbuttoned and spread open, but his shirt still on. His hand wasn't violently pumping his length like I'd expected him to be doing; he was rubbing, softly, slowly, gently. Oh, he was gentle. He was caressing himself, pleasuring timidly, no rush at. I made my presence clear and inhaled, moving closer. He did nothing but simply look up at me, give me soft smile, and continue pleasuring himself. It made me feel good to be able to watch him, to hear his soft pants, watch the way his skilled hands worked.

"Would you like to help?" he whispered, looking up at me. I lay down next to him, sliding my fingers across his chest and dragging him into a deep, passionate kiss.

"You mean...with that?" I clarified, gesturing down. He nodded, smiling lovingly.

"Okay..." I looked down to study, to memorize. "What feels good for you?" I asked, knowing I could never pull off what he was doing.

"Well, first Katniss, it would help if you would take your clothes off...," he asked, the innocent look in his eyes not pleading of lust, but love. I smiled and nodded, kissing him again, moaning into it. He moaned in response, and I knew, I just knew, he had tightened his fingers for just a moment, because that was a moan of pleasure.

I slid the straps off my shoulders and shimmied the dress down the length of my body, Peeta squeezing his eyes shut and releasing a strained groan as I revealed more. I loved knowing that I could pleasure the man I loved this way, simply showing myself to him made him want to scream. And he could.

"Peeta...we're alone and off the train...you can moan...," I urged, needing the stimulation. He nodded, pleasure written all over his face.

"I think," his breathing hitched, "I think I'm gonna come," he whispered, using his free hand to bring me in for another kiss.

"Don't," I placed my hand on his moving one, his erection hot beneath our fingers. Hot and throbbing with pleasure and rushing blood. He was breathing heavily, fighting the urge to whimper.

I stroked his face, and it was only then that I noticed a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead.

"Don't come yet, I want you to do that inside me." He leaned his head back and closed his yes, whispering unintelligible words underneath his breath. I climbed on top of him, something I've never done before, and he shot me a look, the same look I must have on my face. I planned on undressing him slowly, teasingly, but I needed him, _now. _

He moved his hands and I grasped him, about ready to become one.

"Wait," he cautioned, reaching over and snatching the condom of the table, fumbling around with the wrapper before finally giving up and using his teeth to open it.

"No...," I didn't know what I was doing. "We don't need it," I told him. He looked confused.

"Only the women in the capitol use birth control Katniss, without a condom we could-," I silenced him with a kiss, tangling my fingers in his damp golden hair, sliding his length into me, only releasing his lips to cry out suddenly. I hadn't expected it to hurt that much. He gasped.

"Oh Katniss," he breathed. Still, he didn't know my cries of pain weren't of pleasure. That's something he didn't need to know.

He was still propped up on his elbows, his hands gripping the sheets for dear life. My hands still tangled in his hair, my face hiding in his neck while I fought back tears.

"Katniss!" he exclaimed. I pulled back to look at him, my turn to be confused. He was looked between my legs, wide eyed.

"What is it Peeta?" I murmured, starting to feel self conscious.

"You...you're...I think...I think that's blood," he whispered. I gently touched where he'd entered me and felt a damp wetness. Expecting dripping wet blood on my fingers, I pulled them back up and there was nothing but wetness. It was me, it was just my arousal. Peeta had never felt that before...I had never been this aroused before.

"No Peeta, you get hard as I get wet, that's not blood, it's how my body tells me that I need you," I told him, beyond relief overcoming me. And I kissed him urgently, taking his lips up in mine and whimpering as he pulled back, thrusting in with urgency. He groaned, and his pleasure blocked the pain for me. Then again, he repeated the in and out movement, and with every thrust, my cries of pain subsided into cries of pleasure.

Thunder cracked outside and I began moving on top of him, my fingernails scraping to yank open the buttons of his shirt as he sighed my name. Finally I had him completely naked, and there was more thunder, the violent shattering of raindrops against the windows and roof very soothing. The shadow of water dripping down the windows shined on Peetas glistening body, brightened by the moonlight. I couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and know that he was probably thinking the same thing too.

"I love you Peeta," I whisper. "You feel so good inside me," and I whimper his name once more, falling forward and pressing my lips against the hollow of his throat. He whimpered with me, something I've never heard before. He completely let himself go and cried out over and over again, my name, how tight I was, how much he loved me too.

I was starting to get sore, in this position, so I dismounted him and gestured for him to get on top. And he did, sliding inside me gently.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, thrusting and kissing the scars on my face and my shoulders, my neck, and my breasts.

"Peeta, what's it like," I breathed, both of us have reached a trembling state, pleasure and passion hot and fiery burning in our hearts and souls.

"It's like a time bomb, every amazing moment bringing us closer," he started kissing my neck and thrusting faster, "and closer to our release." He whimpered my name and I knew. He was nearing _his _release. He whimpered again, and I held him tighter, pushing him back and into our previous position. I took control, ready to show him the most pleasurable thing on earth.

"Faster," I pleaded, knowing that would help. He dug his nails into my thighs and thrust up into me faster and I moved on him, my hands on either side of his head, my lips on his. "Faster Peeta, harder," I groaned, over exaggerated the pleasured sounds of my own. But god, it felt so amazing to feel him move so desperately inside of me, and he stiffened up, nothing moving but his lips and the way he moved inside of me.

His breathing sped up and he suddenly pulled back.

"I'm coming Katniss!" he cried, screaming thereafter. I watched as he slowed his movements, his screams fading into small whimpers. I had never heard anything so amazing in my entire life.

He was left panting, his eyes drooping shut. "I love you," he whispered, and then he was asleep. _Wow_, I sighed, sliding off of his flaccid penis, just looking at his face. I kissed him tenderly, reaching down to masturbate for the first time ever, seeing as I never reached my own physical peak.

"I love you too," I whispered.


	6. In his mind

**Soooo sorry it took so long… Anyway, I've decided to create a time skip! Hurray! We're now in Post-Mockingjay(except for in the beginning, when they had brought Peeta back)…well read and you'll find out. **

**If you didn't want me to skip, feel free to tell me, but deal cuz I'm not going back. It's too boring. :P**

**Read on. (Also! Sorry it's so short )':**

**Chapter Six**

**In his mind**

I cringed away and tried not to cry. Peeta was thrashing wildly around the table, this creature I'd never seen before taking the place of my fiancé.

"Peeta," I whisper softly, unable to comprehend what was happening before me. What had they done to him? "Peeta!" I scream, falling against the glass, nails clawing against it, trying to get it open.

"Stop, doing that won't help," Beetee says, rolling up behind me. There are men in the room with him, holding him down, and I recognize one as a peacekeeper that had gone missing back in the district, Aaron. So this is where he went…everyone else had just thought that he'd tried to escape and the capitol arrested him, turned him into an avox. I'm surprised they didn't though; I wondered how he got away so smoothly.

"Well what the hell _is _going to help!" I throw my hands up in the air with frustration.

"I'm not sure yet, we just got him back and we're still trying to figure out what the capital did to him to make him like this," Beetee tells me, gazing curiously at Peeta through the glass. What the hell had they done to him?

__ Post-Mockingjay__

"So do you like it?" I ask him as he takes in the sight of his new home, our home.

"It's peaceful," he comments, "I'll be able to pain uninterruptedly here." I smile and nod eagerly.

"Of course! There's a sunroom that I thought you might like, Peeta," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. He holds me back, but it was never as tender as the night he was taken by the capital, the night they began to teach him to hate me. I knew he was getting his memories back now, and at least he knew of his true feelings for me, even though he couldn't quite grasp how strong they were. The whole emotional twist has been upsetting for him, and it's taken so long just to get him to stop cringing whenever I stroke his hair.

But we were so much better now, almost a full year has gone by since Snow has been dead, and with all of the treatments and tours and stylists, and the games, all behind us, we could start over. We both had a clean slate, despite the scars we carried. One issue remained, and that was Peeta's acceptance to be able to hold me, and touch me for longer than a few moments. It wasn't me, I knew he loved me, but it was what they had done to him to make him hesitant when it came to physical affection. I try to kiss him, and he stiffens up. I haven't tried anything further.

"Peeta," I murmur. Peeta uses that as an excuse to let go, and moves to the couch, immediately abandoning that and kneeling by the fire, holding his gifted hands out to the crackling flames.

"Yes?" he replies, his voice monotonic, like it always has been. There have been few moments where I recognize Peeta, feel the familiarity in his tone. He has never been the same, and it broke my heart. I do know one thing though, he always returns to normal when I cry. I think it's the vulnerability telling him that no one is going to hurt him anymore. When I give him the opportunity to be the caring one his true self comes out. And in turn I cry harder because for a minute, I have my precious love back in my life. But only for a minute.

"When do you think we could make love again?" I ask softly, kneeling next to him and taking his hand. It wasn't the need and the want talking, it was the fact that I was in love with him and to not be able to show physical intimacy was getting harder. He looked back and the fire sadly, shoulders hunched over and beautiful blond hair falling wildly over his face. I pushed it away, and for once he didn't react to the touch.

"I'm not a virgin, real or not real?" he whispers, his eyes not moving from the fire. I know he knows the answer, but I think he wasn't referring before he was taken.

"Real," I say softly, squeezing his hand in my own.

"Was it you?" he asks. I nod, and he turns to look into my eyes. "Was it special?" he asks again, obviously making a point that he doesn't remember any of it, and the thought that he couldn't just broke my heart. The most amazing night of both of our lives, and he can't remember it.

"Yes," I say, almost choking on the sudden tears coming from my eyes and my heart. Good, I needed Peeta in this moment. I needed him so badly it hurt.

"Shhh Katniss, it's okay, I'm here," he soothes. I cry into his chest and he holds me tightly, rubbing my back. "I'm so sorry, it's not that I don't remember…I just can't remember what I was thinking when it happened…they messed up my brain so much," he says, starting to cry himself. This was like its own reminder that we were both still ourselves, they couldn't alter us and ultimately, we were still madly in love. Peeta would be himself again someday. "Katniss, I'm so sorry," he cries, holding me tighter and tighter, as I do him.

"Don't apologize, none of this was your fault," I pull back to look at his stunning tear streaked face, wiping them off with my fingers, "you'll remember again someday. And yes, it was so special, you and I agreed it was the best night of our lives," I tell him, and as soon as the words are out he starts to sob, for the first time since the nightmares stopped. Now his mind is just blank when he sleeps. There are no nightmares, and no dreams. All of his memories, stained.

I take advantage of the situation and hold him as tight as I could, getting as much as I could before our little tear-fest was over and he would go back to the man I hardly knew.

After a few hours the cries subsided, and Peeta released his grip on me, and stood, looking away from the dying fire.

"I think we should go to bed," he says. But it's different…his voice is…familiar.

"Peeta?" I question, just to be positive. He holds his hands out to me and I take it. As I stand he places his hand at the small of my back, pulling me into his warm embrace.

"Hold still," he instructs, his voice nearly gone. "I love you, sweetheart," he whispers. That's when I knew; he was back. Then his lips were pressed against mine for the first time since he's returned, and it's like everything inside me has caught fire. I had Peeta Mellark back.


	7. Finally

**Okay first things first, I'm sooooo sorry! School is absolutely nuts- little boring piece of my life- I go to an international baccalaureate (IB) school so the work is crazy hard… you gotta be smart to get in, and idk how I did, but now they expect me to know this stuff, so yeah, homework is a pain. (like the homework I'm putting off so that I can write this, so you better love me!)**

**Also, I pulled a muscle in my neck while I was sleeping so I couldn't move for two days, which made it impossible to even pee by my own freakin self, so I couldn't type… (probably didn't wanna know that huh…)**

**So now I'm still catching up on the crap I missed. **

**Anyway, I'll stop lecturing you but one more thing! Thank you guys so much for the support, it really means a lot to me!**

"Hold still," I command, using all of my strength to pin Peeta down.

"Oh sweetheart, you always had to have things your way," he says, and the sound of his voice forces me to attack his lips even more. He moans softly into my lips, always as gentle as he used to be, leaving all of the craving and desperation to me. I didn't mind, I knew he wanted this just as much as I did.

"Peeta," I whisper his name as I pull back to breathe, and he sits up, folding his arms around me as my legs wrap around his waist. I lock my arms behind his neck and keep him close, my mind in a frenzy. "I missed you so much!"

"I've always been here," he says apologetically, pathetically. He looks into my eyes, but there's no room in the desperation to have each other for us to cry.

"It's okay, I know, you just weren't you," I tell him, kissing his flushed cheeks and ears affectionately. He kisses me passionately, whispering a million 'I love yous' every chance he gets.

"At the capital," I say slowly, "what did they make you do?" I have to be careful with my wording because, and maybe I'm just being paranoid, but he could switch back to the old Peeta at any minute. I hadn't had enough of him. I have to make love with him at least once before his memory turns to mush again. That is, if it does.

"Katniss," he whispers. "I'm not sure if I can," I cut him off.

"It's okay. Too soon to ask," I say, giving him the biggest smile I could before pressing my lips to his again. They're so soft and wet, inviting me in and keeping me prisoner. He moans again and I push him back against the pillows, not sure how far we were going go get.

He slides his hand up my shirt and cups my breast in his palm, testing me as I was testing him. I sit up, and strip the shirt completely. Grinning at me, he sits up and tries to remember how to undo the clasp on my bra. But after fumbling around with it for too long I decide to give him mercy and reach behind me to snap it open.

"Oh," he laughs nervously, "that's how you do...it…" He trails off and takes in the sight of my breasts like it was the first time he's ever see them. In a sense, it is, though it still makes me blush as deep.

"Your turn," I tell him, gesturing to his light gray v-neck. He's confused for a moment before realizing. He was nervous, I could see it in his eyes, but it was a good nervous. A loving nervous. It hadn't been a memory change, it was a complete flip. It was almost as if his brain had never been altered by that damn capital. "Pants?" I question, still unsure.

"Katniss," he sighs. "I have made love with you a thousand times, stop acting so nervous!" he jokes, stroking me cheek and running his fingers down my spine, knowing I like it. He must really be back.

"You remember?"

"Yes." I smile and he smiles. Then we're working to get our clothes off, him because he wants to make love and I because I have never needed another person so badly in my entire life.

He's so rough, so hard and eager, and yet careful. In one swift movement he's scooping me up in his arms and pressing his lips against mine, all the while working his way in without a single tingle of pain on my end. He's in, in a matter of seconds, a new record for him, and I cannot take my lips off of his. Can't take my hands out of his hair.

We share a breath, a heartbeat. He's so close, it's overwhelming and I can't stop.

"I missed you so much Peeta," I say into his mouth, tightening my grip with every kiss, never getting enough. He started moving in and out of me, his hips slow and rocking steadily to the sound of our breathing. Even, slow pacing. I roll onto my back and wrap my legs around him, stroking every inch of his skin and making love to him in all the ways that I knew possible.

We spoke to each other, we looked at each other, and we acknowledged each other's needs…for hours.

We started off going slow, but after we realized the sun would be rising soon, he thrusted harder, deeper. I gasp his name as the violent pounding of my heart started.

I knew Peeta could've finished the minute we'd started, but he'd held off so that it could last. Now it was time, and he stiffened as he started to climax. All I was doing was holding him in my arms, but then there was one simple request added to the mix.

"Speak," he whispers, trembling softly, his body moist and hone blond curls falling over his face.

"I love you," I say, not knowing what else to say. He squeezes his eyes shut and moans once more before finally subsiding into peace.

We were still for a moment, just breathing, just basking in the glow of the aftermath. It was then that I thought to ask him.

"Just my voice?" I rub his back and he looks up at me, pulling out slowly and moving off to the side so that I could look at him more clearly. He nods to me.

"Anything really, anything about you pushes me over," he tells me, his cerulean blue eyes soft and gentle, yet piercing. I had never realized until this moment exactly how much this boy loved me. Since the very beginning, he has.

"You're amazing," I whisper, unable to say anything else. He smiles and pulls me into his arms, his naked body sending chills through mine.

"Making love a million times and I still make you nervous," he teases, kissing my cheeks affectionately before pressing his lips against mine.

There was something different about this time though… I couldn't put my finger on it, because his lips and his body were too distracting, his still hard manhood nudging against my stomach. That's it…

"Peeta," I pull away, breathing heavily.

"Yes love?" he responds, kissing me on my neck.

"We didn't use a condom, did we?" I ask, knowing the answer already.


	8. Peeta Mellark, maker of babies and cakes

**It's Friday! As you all Hunger Game Fanatics all know, the movie came out today! Of course, being your **_**Always My Peeta**_** God (or should I say Goddess) and leader, I had a duty in going to see it. I died in my seat. It was so incredible I can't put it into words, but I'll try. Being able to see the dynamic romance of Katniss and Peeta on the big screen has gotten me so motivated, and hopefully I'll be updating more frequently… Read on, readers. (BTW- don't ever sit in the front row while watching Hunger Games, everything is so **_**blurry! **_**Or maybe I'm just blind…)**

I expected to wake to the warmth of Peeta's skin beneath my fingers, my cheek, to hear the steady flow of his breathing and cheek his chest rise and fall. But he wasn't here with me, and for the first time after we'd made love, I woke up alone.

But Peeta was a kind man, he was someone who would always think of me first, so there was a note next to me on my pillow. You wouldn't normally expect someone with his education, especially male, to have such neat handwriting, but he does. Or maybe it's because he's so well adjusted to using his hands. That's where he is! I knew the answer before I read the note, he was at the bakery.

'_I've woken up with an epiphany. Last night's events have brought something to me I just can't let get away. I hate to leave you alone, but I'm at the bakery and will try to return before noon._

_All my love,_

_Peeta'_

I was right, he was at the bakery. I looked at the sun, which was just about over the trees, still late dawn. He would be gone for a few more hours, and that wasn't going to be easy. Who said I couldn't join him, though? I would visit him, but I needed a few moments to myself.

I laid back and sighed to myself, thinking over the events of the previous night. I had Peeta back. It was still all so hard to believe. Then again, we are just a huge bundle of miracles so far. Just getting past our first time in the Hunger Games was absolutely crazy as it is, and when the second time past, I felt there was almost nothing we couldn't do. But after we lost him to the capital, I had never felt so hopeless. I recalled last night's dream, a dream I'll never forget…

___"My dear, this is never an easy thing to say," Snow says to me, turning towards Peeta and running a finger across his lips. His hands were literally tied, being held by two peacekeepers behind him, and I saw the reluctance in his eyes as Snow caressed his face in various places. It made me sick to watch, and it stunned me how little Peeta moved. How little he fought. It looked like something he was forced to do over and over and over again. Of course my subconscious knew it, he was a slave. A slave forced to give sexual favors, and from the looks of it, Snow was his main user. "But this boy is now mine." Peeta looked up at me, frightened and apologetic. _

I was shocked. How was Peeta still able to make love with me after going through something like that? How many men and women was he violated by before I had him back? I felt terrible utilizing his body so quickly, we should've waited! Looking for assurance that I wasn't completely awful, I looked back down at his note, starting to wake up and realize I was hungry. I had to stop getting used to such large meals. I didn't need them, and I was becoming too accustomed. Something about the note stuck out. _'Last night's events have brought to me something I just can't let get away.' _What was that supposed to mean? Was he splattering the memory on a canvas of frosting because it was good, or because it was bad and he wanted it out of his system? I had to see him and find out.

As I stood I glanced down, I needed clothes. Remembering last night it finally hit me that we could've conceived. Did he think about it before we made love, or was it my fault…? Then a wave of nausea overcame me and I darted for the bathroom, vomiting in the toilet.

Oh no…

I walked up the familiar wooden steps of the bakery that we'd worked so hard to rebuild where his own families was. After we returned home for good, Peeta immediately wanted to bake. It was all he'd done since he was hijacked, and now it's what he continues to do. He speaks of epiphanies more often now, and I should've known that's what he would do this morning. I can't just expect him to sit still while his fingers tingle with anticipation. At least we're never short on cupcakes.

"Peeta?" I call as I enter, not expecting to see him in the front area, where he sells them.

"Katniss, is that you?" he answers from the back, and it sends shivers down my spine to hear his voice. It's like I haven't heard it in years. I still can't believe how much I missed him.

"Hey," I greet, entering the back and feeling special because no one else was allowed to.

"Morning sweetheart, I didn't expect you to be up," he says to me, a welcoming smile on his face as he set down his brush. (Yes, he uses a brush to paint his cakes.) I lean against the counter and he embraces me awkwardly, careful not to get any frosting from his apron on my clothes. He tries to kiss me but I turn my head and step away slightly. He looks confused but seemingly lets it go.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I must not smell too good."

"Why wouldn't you?" he questions, returning to his work.

"I was throwing up this morning," I tell him, looking at my shoes. He's silent, and I can feel him looking at me, expecting me so say more.

"Well, do you know why?" he asks softly, coming back over to me.

"Peeta, what if I'm pregnant?" I look up at him, trying not to sound too scared.

"Don't be silly," he smiles nervously, "You wouldn't know for a few more months after the fact." He looks down at our fingers as they messed together.

"That doesn't answer my question," I retort. He's caught off guard for a moment but then pulls my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

"I would be so thrilled," he says, kissing me softly. He brushes his fingers against my neck, my hair. Then he lets go and goes back to his cake, picking up his brush and swirling more frosting onto something I couldn't quite make out. "And for what it's worth, you smell fine to me."

"Peeta, I'm pregnant," I say. It comes to me like an arrow to a deer; suddenly. As soon as it comes out I know it's true. He's silent, and from the looks of it frozen. "Peeta…"

"Are you kidding?" His sudden outburst makes me jump but before I realize that he's not angry, he's kissing me; he's holding me as tightly as possible and kissing me with all he has.

"What? You're okay with it?" I say, pushing him away slightly.

"Of course I am sweetheart! This is going to be so amazing!" he says, hugging me tightly. "I can't believe it's happening…when did you conceive?" he pulls back to look at me, to take in my stunned face. He puts his hands on my cheeks and smiles encouragingly.

"Just last night," I whisper, "I know it's not why I was throwing up this morning, but trust me, I know, we conceived," I say. I expect him to be upset that I had no proof, but he wasn't, he just hugged me once again.

"I guess we better start thinking of names then."

"It's so pretty I don't want to eat it!" I exclaim, laughing and taking the fork he hands me as he laughs with me. We were home and getting ready to eat the cake he'd made this morning, before he stocked up on the other cakes he'd made the rest of the day. We stayed until it was dark, talking about possible names and ideas. But the whole time I was terrified, I was scared of being wrong and letting Peeta down. What if I was wrong and last night we hadn't conceived? It just felt so…real. It was like something clicked.

"There's plenty more where this came from, and you haven't had one of my cakes in awhile, so eat up." He stabs it with his fork and takes a bite, grinning at me. I do as he says and scoop up a piece of my face. The picture was Peeta and I, standing on top of the cornucopia the first time we were in the games. Nothing could get us up there, Peeta explained, we were always safe as long as we were together.

Of course the cake was like heaven in my mouth, and I wished that we could share it with everyone, but what was really on my mind was Peeta. If I hadn't conceived last night, we would tonight. But…did I really want a child? Could I handle something like that? Peeta was excited enough, he says it was something he's wanted his entire life. He would make a spectacular father, and though I loved Prim and Rue, I couldn't see myself being a mother. I couldn't see myself hating it either. I was only willingly doing this because I knew it made him so happy.

After half of the cake was gone and the other half was in the refrigerator, I motioned for Peeta to follow me to the stairs. He looked confused but obliged.

"What's with the sudden urge to get to bed?" he asked as we got into the room.

"Make love with me?" I question, unzipping my jacket. He lifts his eyebrows and smiles slowly.

"Hmmm, make love to the woman carrying my child," he says as he watches me undress. "That's sexy." I laugh and the look in his eyes as the remove the rest of my clothing is priceless.

"I'll take that as a yes?" I lean back against the pillows and take my hair out of my braid, setting the tie on the dresser and watching him take his shirt off, still standing at the edge of the bed.

"Why though Katniss?" he asked, his voice muffled through the fabric.

"Why what?" I respond as he drops his pants. I'm never going to get used to this.

"Why do you want to make love?" he asks as he gets up on the bed with me, crawling over and spreading my legs, kissing my stomach and holding my legs above his shoulders as he worked his way down. I gasped, surprised at the sudden change in action. Peeta and I had never made love this way, and for him to so casually do it was odd.

"I just…I just want you and I love you," I answer nervously, looking down at him, stunned as he gently strokes my weak spots. How does he know where my weak spots are?

"Are you sure you're not just doing it to make sure you get pregnant?" he chuckles, licking a part of me that I didn't even know was so sensitive until he'd focused his tongue on it. I gasp, my hands shooting to his hair and neck.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" He looks up at me, almost apologetically.

"Just making love to you," he answers softly.

"But…but you've never done that before…so…and it…but why did it feel so good…?" I stutter, holding his cheek in my hand. "How do you know how to do that so well?" I question, immediately regretting it.

"The women at the capital, they made me do it. Several women wanted only this," he says quietly, looking up at my eyes with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry," is all I can say.

"Don't be. I'm trying to be positive about it; now I know what feels good for you," he smiles and softly strokes my stomach. My legs tremble and he returns his mouth to that one area. I let my head fall back and moan. I feel his hot breath on me, and I know he likes to hear my pleasure the same as I do his. His tongue does things I'll never understand and soon I'm not able to hold back the moans anymore, and I feel my pleasure rising. And rising, and rising some more…

"Peeta stop! Please, I want to make love with you," I plead, tangling my fingers in his messy blond hair. But he doesn't stop; he keeps circling his tongue and pushing his fingers in and out of me slowly. "Peeta!" I gasp, electric waves of ecstasy running through my body and my legs clench around him, my hands holding him there as I moaned. The most amazing orgasm I've ever known.

He comes up and I snatch his lips up in mine, wrapping my legs around him and begging for his entrance. I wanted his love, now. He sighs and wraps his arms around me, starting to make love to me and pulling away from my lips to groan from the sudden tightness around his manhood.

"You need to stop being so tight, or I won't last two minutes," he teases, kissing me as he thrusted into a rhythm.

"I would say sorry but I'm not," I breathed, holding his neck and his hair, opening my legs wider to give him more access.

"Katniss," he says, thrusting harder, making love to me harder, and kissing me more passionately.

"Yes?" I reply, but I can't help but gasp in the middle of my response, his moving become so urgent and he begins to moan beautifully. Did it really feel this good for him? Could he really be experiencing as much pleasure as I did moments ago?

"Katniss!" he says again, this time whimpering my name, kissing me harder than ever and his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm so close!" he says, stroking my face and I saw the pleasure written all over his. Already! Good, we'll do it a million times until I'm satisfied. I squeezed my legs around him, pushing him further inside me and holding him still. He pulled back to look at me, curiously, but I just smiled as I touched his face. His familiar, Peeta Mellark face. I almost couldn't wait to have his babies, and the thought of him coming in me again tonight gave me butterflies. I wanted him to. I wanted him to so badly!

"Come, Peeta, come for me," I whisper. And he nods, panting slightly. There's a thin layer of sweat covering his face and his back, and I run my fingers into his hair behind his ears. I just hold him, moaning with him and listening to him respond with strained whimpers. He's never been this loud before, and it's amazing to hear. Like my own secret fantasies brought to life. He's breathing desperately, every second he whimpers, and every other second he whimpers my name. He's warm and passionate and the feeling of him above me, encasing me and loving me, brought me to the edge of the universe and back. "Peeta," I whisper, and he cries my name once more before trembling and freezing his motions. "That's it honey, come Peeta, I love you so much," I say softly and warmly in his ear, his desperate cries of pleasure completely rocking my world. It was all I heard and all I felt. It was all I saw as I looked at his face. Just the beauty of it, told me that tonight was about us. Last night we'd conceived, but tonight was just for us. We had each other, and no matter what we couldn't be hurt anymore.

"Katniss!" he cries before his climax finally comes to an end. "Ohhh…" He buries his face in my neck and moans so very quietly. "That was so amazing…"

"I know you are…," I whisper.


	9. Zombie Reunion

**Thanks for all the support guys, and don't forget to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Read on…**

_"Run Katniss! You have to get out of here!" Peeta screams, his frantic voice powering my legs. I'm not running though, I'm swimming. But I can't swim on my own, and I can't see Peeta, I couldn't see him to begin with. There are hands dragging me down, like seaweed tangling my legs up, making escape impossible. I make it to the island safely but as soon as I'm up on my feet again I see them coming in from the sides, and there are so many…_

_ The walking dead, zombies as they used to call them in ancient America, are stalking us everywhere. What was supposed to have been a reunion of the winning tributes has turned into a deadly mixture of the games and a twisted fight for sanity. They were past tributes, avoxes, and dead family and friends. Prim…she was one of them; I just hadn't seen her yet. I was sure to come across Rue as well. They were made the same way the mutts were, their bodies real, dragged from their graves and sparked with the light of evil. _

_ I have a weapon suddenly, and I aim for their heads, their brain the only source of a true defeat. All I knew was that they must all be dead. One by one, they dropped, but more were coming out of the trees. _

_ Then we're behind a house…like transportation had suddenly become synchronized with my battle. And there are people I'd come to know over the years, chosen at random. Why were they here..? Perhaps they'd been stolen by the capitol to participate. I recognized Joshua, Roberto, Emilie, Christofer, and Tatum; all from District 12. They were not dead, that much was sure, but they were still gone…_

_ Propped up against wooden fences and the porch of an abandoned home, sharing any weapons or food they had scavenged. Peeta was asleep in the dirt a few feet away, his head turned away and his hands laid upon his chest. _

_This was no different from the games. Sad faces and prayers. No one had said a prayer in ages, it was thought to be foolish, and pray to a god that was thought to not have existed long ago. But some still hung on to that thought, still believed in a higher power. _

_ "There's only one way we'll ever get out," Christofer murmurs, staring at the ground, refusing to blink. Long delicate blond hair pushed away and stained with blood, his baby face and posture saddening. He was a child of fourteen, only beginning to discover. _

_ "How?" I cough, wiping dirt covered hands across my face to expel the tears from my eyes. _

_ "Death." He finally closes his eyes and buries his head in his arms. _

_ I then turn and use the weapon in my hand to point to Peeta, and pull the trigger._

_ I jump, the sound scaring myself, and I realize what I'd done. I held the dying boy in my arms the same way I held Rue, his pleading eyes tearing up and blue orbs blurred. _

_ "I'm so sorry," I cry, stroking his face, his hair. _

_ "I love you," he whispers, closing his eyes. I lean down to kiss him and he returns the kiss until his lips slow, and cease. _

"_His lips stopped moving," I whisper to the rest of them, who had not moved an inch. Then the dead flooded into the area, and we were all up in an instant._

_One had my arm in its own, its teeth around my skin. It started to bite. My weapon was gone, and I had nothing to defend myself with. Thinking on reflex, I yanked my arm away and ripped the shirt I was wearing. It was a small bite, barely broken the skin. But was it enough to change me? Having nothing else, I shoved my fingers into her eye sockets, damaging the brain, and she dropped. My fingers were dripping with goo and there was bile in the back of my throat, but left and right, I went for their eyes. Chris took notice and did the same, my method working. It had to work, for Peeta. _

"Peeta…"I woke up sobbing, rolling to my side and desperately hoping it was early enough and Peeta had not left for the bakery yet. He was there, and he was warm as I clung to his chest, sobbing hysterically over and over again, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

All he could do was hold me back, stroking my back, repeating that it was okay and just a dream.

"I love you," I tell him, as if I could assure myself more that I could never kill Peeta. "I love you," I repeat, kissing his face, realizing it's still dark in the room and he was fast asleep when I'd woken him. "I'm sorry," I cried again for a couple different things.

"Katniss it's okay, I love you, more than anything. Why do you keep apologizing?" he asks in a soothing voice, fingers stroking my face and making me look at him. My god he is so beautiful, like my own personal savior. What had really gotten me about my dream wasn't that all of the deceased people in our lives were killing us, but that I had killed Peeta. He was all I had, and to kill him would be like killing myself.

"I'll explain in the morning," I whisper into his lips.

Peeta held me until the crying stopped, and I had fallen cried myself into unconsciousness. But when I woke again he was looking at the ceiling, thinking. That's when I knew that he had never went back to sleep.

Peeta and I were talking quietly, on another train. It's been nearly two years since the last time we were both on a train and the experience was nerve-wracking. Since when were these trains so empty? I had assumed that Effie would at least be here as an escort, or Haymitch, considering all tributes were required to be there.

Yesterday morning Peeta had stayed home from the bakery because it was the weekend. After my dream he decided to be with me as much as possible, making an exception only to run a single errand. He returned home at noon, gone only an hour, and with him he brought our Saturday mail.

There had been an invitation from President Cory, a man we'd democratically elected to make a difference like the Americans used to. A political movement to become a democracy was mainly Peeta's idea, and with the help of the capitol and many other leaders who disagreed with Snow, we made it happen. Or at least, we're in the process of it.

"We've been invited to a reunion, it's in the capitol and all surviving tributes are required to come for a special dinner," Peeta reads, handing the letter to me as he finishes.

"I don't wanna go," I say quietly, setting the letter on the counter without reading it.

"It's mandatory, we have to go," Peeta apologizes, putting food away that he had picked up from the market. I help him and we start packing the refrigerator. Too much food…

"Do you think we should give some of this away?" I ask him, charity on my mind.

"Katniss, Panem is thriving better than it has in centuries. Nobody starves anymore." He closes the refrigerator. "If people needed it, we would've helped by now, you know that."

Back on the train, it took me a few moments to realize we were quiet and our conversation had ended. My thoughts drifted back to my dream.

"I know it's disturbing, but with Snow dead there's no way your dream could've come true," Peeta assures, taking my hand and interlocking our fingers while gesturing for me to scoot over so that he could sit in the loveseat with me.

"Still," I retort, rather weakly. He takes my hand and moves it across his lips, smiling softly at me. He moves his nose to my neck and sighs, knowing that I would giggle.

"That tickles!"I push a laughing Peeta away, his eyes smug. "What..?"

Then he's attacking me, tickling my sides and pinning my legs down with his as he attempted to murder me in the chair. I was sprawled out, laughing so hard I feared my lungs would burst. The only way I could get him to stop was by putting my hands in his hair and crushing his lips against mine. It worked, and he became calm, his hands rubbing my sides instead of poking me to death. His lips moved softly and the entire atmosphere shifted.

I pushed him away and stood up, he looked at me questioningly.

"At least I know how to get you to stop," I teased, and he just groaned, putting his head in his arms.

"Damn it sweetheart, why do you continue to have this affect on me?" he muttered. I kneeled beside him, stroking his hair.

"I wanna try something," I say, and he looks up at me.

"What?" he asks, sitting up normally and fixing his hair.

"I'll tell you later, I don't wanna try it here." He nods and kisses me softly, hugging me afterwards.

"I love you," we both say at the same time.

"Wonderful!" Cory exclaims, taking his seat after shaking hands with everybody at the table.

"Of course Haymitch will be missed, wherever he is," he adds, quieter. Oh, this man and his funny capitol accent. He had a point, Haymitch was missing. He was probably drunk somewhere.

Glancing around the table, I took in the sight of past winners whom I had not met during the Quarter Quell. I was surprised to see that President Cory was younger than I had assumed. Probably in his mid-thirties, and odd looking indeed, though not unattractive. He had piercing green eyes, and long silky chocolate hair that extended barely past his jaw. He was the only capitol man that I had ever met who did not style his face with a beard or facial hair. Odd looking for the capitol, but for District 12…

Peeta and I were next to each other near the end of the table, the last seat supposedly reserved for Haymitch, but was empty. The only empty seat seeing as there was no substitute for him. Annie had substituted for Finnick; she must've gotten someone to watch the child. I had been meaning to speak to her, meet this child that the entire district and capitol has gone completely googly-eyes over.

I expected this dinner to be long, but it was over within the hour. And instead of serving any particular purpose, Cory insisted it was so that he may gather our input on the games and shape Panem into something better than we'd ever seen before.

"What made you wanna try this?" Peeta asks around my lips.

"You; the way you made me feel when we made love, I want you to feel that way too." I was already kissing down his stomach, nervous.

"Oh, Katniss, you don't have to-," he starts, and shush him.

"I want to. Unless you're uncomfortable with it," I tell him.

"Not at all. I just don't want you to bite me," he teases. I laugh too, but I know he has a valid point. I could hurt him. But this was just something we're going to have to trust ourselves with sooner or later.

"I love you Peeta," I whisper for probably the millionth time today. He sits up and pulls me into his strong arms, running his hands up my back underneath my shirt and whispering the same exact words to me too. This kiss was passionate, and his tongue entered my mouth smoothly. Now this was relatively new, but not at all unenjoyable. It's amazing all of the stuff we had yet to try and discover.


	10. Oh, I get it now

"I just don't want you to bite me," Peeta says nervously, but I can tell this was something the capitol women had not stolen from him. I was going to be the first time for both of us. He was right though; if I bit him he would be in immense pain. He was sensitive anyway, so biting him while making love in this particular way would be terrible. But this was about us, not the pleasure, thought that would be particularly increased on his end tonight…

"I love you Peeta," I whisper, and I know that I say it way too often, but I feel like I have to. I'm afraid that I'll lose him again and I'll be left to raise this baby with a father who is trapped in his own mind. It was painful enough watching my mother go through it, while I was raising Prim. I couldn't do it again.

Nevertheless, he picks me up and pulls me closer to his chest, whispering the same words to me and trapping me in a mind blowing kiss, fireworks sparkling everywhere like they usually do. His arms are wrapped tightly around me, and despite his young age and innocent face and attire, he was ready to be a father. And I was ready to be a mother.

That was when I started kissing down is neck again, and he sighed in pleasure. Even that was enough to make the butterflies appear in my stomach. I couldn't wait to pleasure him, to let love shine the way, as cheesy as that sounds. His skin was soft, and I soon got to the base of his throat, then his collarbone.

I pulled away and said, "Okay, let's get these clothes off." It didn't sound like something I would normally be able to say with confidence, so the underlying tone of the statement was really like _help me because I'm just as nervous as you are and if you took your clothes off things would progress easier. _

"Okay, I just hope you know what you're doing," he replies nervously.

"We don't have to," I say back, sensing the hesitancy in the air.

"No it's okay I've just never done it before…"

"You had never made love before we were on the tour and yet you weren't as scared then," I pointed out. His gray cotton shirt was tossed to the floor. How could a baker be this muscular? He must do more than lift flower.

"I know…" He looked down, unbuttoning his work pants.

I lean down from his side, kissing his stomach and he leans back slightly. I touch his fingers as they mess with the zipper, shaking. I move my lips half an inch closer and he jumps, falling out of bed and stumbling to his feet quicker than I could pull my head back up.

"Sorry," he mutters, embarrassed before groaned and limping out the door with his pants dragging down, pinched up where his prosthetic leg had snatched the fabric and kept it caught there.

By the time I caught him he had his head stuck in the refrigerator, his pants halfway down his butt and his dark gray boxers hugging his hips. When he turned he had his mouth stuffed with cake, the cake he'd made with us and the cornucopia.

"I need reassurance," he said around the food in his mouth. I laughed. "Can you help?" he asks as he turns towards the counter, gesturing to where his pants were caught in his leg. I bent down, ignoring the chills my shirtless lovers body gave me.

"Reassurance for what?" I ask, unhooking his pants from his leg, then moving my hands to his zipper. "Can I?" I ask, giving him the warmest smile I could while doing the most seductive thing I've ever accomplished; rubbing his crotch. He leaned on his elbows against the counter and leaned his head back.

Whispering, "Oh god," under his breath, he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. I leaned back against the cupboards on the other side, across from the island he was leaning on. He opened his eyes and looked at me expectantly. "I just wanted assurance from myself, if I can make a cake good then I can make love good," he says.

"Well," I correct. "Make love well," I add in a softer tone. He smiles, bending down on his knees to kiss me softly. "And you can make love better than you can make cakes, and your cakes are heaven," I laugh, touching his hair.

"Really?" he asks, leaning against the opposite counter. I nod.

"Yeah, it's not heaven when you make love to me, it's like an explosion. But a good explosion," I say. He looks down, then back up, confidence radiation off of him. He grabs my hand and pulls me up, kissing my lips once before going over to the living room, almost running into something on the way there seeing as the lights were still off and it was dark outside.

He knelt down by the fireplace and sparked a fire, and then his face was more visible.

"Now I'm ready," he turns to me and smiles widely. "I guess it was really just your assurance I needed, that you love me enough."

"Of course I love you," I respond, holding him tightly.

I feel his arms moving, taking his pants off, and then his hands moving up my body, cupping my breasts. I sighed, still not used to the feeling of him touching me there; it was such a male thing to do. Of course this was Peeta, but he was still a man, and he still wanted certain things. It almost made me laugh. I in return kissed him, touching him where I had back in the kitchen, and I got the same reaction. He was definitely hard enough for this.

"Get on the couch," I instructed, thinking it would be better positioning that way. He nodded, nervous again, but a good nervous, an excited nervous. He sat up on the couch, looking slightly confused but still happy, at least happy enough to let me try. Then his boxers were out of the way, and my naked lover looked at me, the same blue eyes that have been looking at me since I was sixteen. I smiled back and spread his legs slightly. He scooted forward, his hands at his sides and his eyes closed a little too tightly. "Relax Peeta, why are you so nervous?" I asked, positioning myself between his knees on the floor, getting comfortable. Who knows how long I'll be here…

"I'm just…self-conscious. I've never had anybody inspect me this closely before, I don't want you to be disappointed," he says quietly, touching my face, moving his fingers to my hair and beginning to undo my braid. My hair fell against my shoulders and he sighed, "You're so beautiful," in a whisper.

"And you are too, every part of you," I tell him. He just smiles back, looking down at nothing. A few moments pass and nothing happens, so I tilt my head up and kiss him to distract him the motions my hands are beginning to perform sloppily. But he notices, and gasps at the contact. I'd never really touched him before, only a few times but not for longer than a second.

I was relying on common knowledge to touch Peeta, and the one time I had seen him masturbate, over a year ago in a hotel while we were on the tour. He knew exactly where my weak spots were and hot to manipulate them, but I was going into this blind, so I simply wrapped my fingers around the base of his manhood and started to stroke. He pulled away, breathing funny, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sorry!" I react hurriedly. "Am I doing it wrong?" I start to panic and stop the movement of my fingers.

"No! Not at all, keep going, please," he begs, letting his head fall back against the couch while holding my shoulders in his hands. I start the motions again, this time adding my other hand for more coverage, and before I know it he's moaning. "God," he sighs.

"Does it really feel that good?" I ask. "I just started."

"Well it feels good, but it's when you added both hands…," he says, looking at me with a smile on his face. "Would you…?" he gestured to me. I looked down, clearly confused.

"What?"

He leans down, his hands on my shoulders going underneath my clothes, sliding them up and off.

"I want to see you," he whispers, leaning forward as far as he could to kiss my neck sensually.

I shiver, the newly exposed skin betraying me with goosebumps. The only thing I can think of to do is to stand up and push him back against the couch. If he kept kissing my neck like that I couldn't focus on the task at hand, and we haven't even gotten close to where we were supposed to be.

The carpet was going to hurt my knees if I was naked, so I planned on getting up with him in a moment. But first I wanted to tease him. I stood and removed my bra, tossing it onto the floor, and Peeta's hands twitched as his lustful blue eyes watched me with admiration and love.

I unbuttoned my jeans and started to pull them down, slowly, knowing that the slower I went the more anxious he would get. He couldn't take it anymore, and he began touching himself. I observed his movements, the way he paid attention to the head as well as the rest of his length. He returned there often. That was it; that must be his weak spot!

He was moving fast, and once my jeans were on the floor I decided to waste no time in removing the last of my clothing. He closed his eyes and moaned sweetly, his fingers visibly tightening. There was something beautiful about watching Peeta pleasure himself, and I almost didn't want to disturb it. That is until he said my name.

"Come here," he instructed. And I ignored the exposure eating away at my conscience. Only Peeta could see me. I was only naked for him, as he was naked for me. He kissed me passionately, rubbing my body while still pleasuring himself. When he pulled away he was panting, trembling almost. "I could just watch you," he says, his voice almost faltering as he holds back moans. "There's so much beauty in just the way your hair falls over your shoulders," he swallows another moan but it's getting harder, "the way it frames your face." He closes his eyes again and whimpers. "God I'm getting closer!" he pants, holding me close, his breath becoming more and more erotic.

"Lay back, and move your hands," I say, watching him turn and lay on the couch while I get between his legs again. He lays back and looks at me expectantly, but lovingly. I lay on my stomach and begin to touch him, confidence suddenly overtaking me and I'm moving forward, licking up his length. He's very warm and his taste is unusual yet amazing. I move my mouth other places, exploring him. I wanted to taste everywhere. Above me he's groaning, and I know I'm doing something right.

Then I remember his weak spot, and though I have absolutely no idea how to perform oral sex, the thought just comes to me. Putting my mouth over the head, I start to suck.

"Katniss!" he gasps, his fingers shooting to my hair, weaving in between the curls and securing me in place. I must be doing this right. I let my tongue explore, tasting every millimeter while letting my hands stroke his length like he had. He begins moaning, and one of his hands journeys down to mine, tightening my fingers' grip beneath his own. "Ohhh, sweetheart, this is so amazing," he whispers through moist lips, voice tender and fragile. "I'm so close Katniss," he tells me as he returns his hand back to my hair. I keep my fingers in a tight grip and move as fast as I could while trying to move him further into my mouth. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever tried to accomplish, but I was nearly halfway down when he started to pull out, whimpering. At first I was confused, but as I was nearly up to the top again he started to push in. Oh, I get it now.

I use my free hand to rub his arm, letting him know I can handle it from here. I start to move my mouth up and down, the saliva and the lack of oxygen annoying but the nuisances quickly vanishing as soon as Peeta's voice graces my ears. I understood it now; this is how you pleasure your lover orally.

There was no way to describe the beautiful sounds Peeta made, the way his hands moved from my hair to my shoulders and my neck and back up again. The entire experience was ecstatic, even for me because I knew the love of my life was happy.

"Katniss!" he gasped suddenly. "God Katniss! I'm coming!" he whimpers my name softly and I pull off of his manhood as quickly as possible. If there was one thing a woman knew it was that if you swallowed a mans sperm, you would become ill. He pulled me in as soon as my mouth was free, crushing his lips against mine briefly before the impact of his orgasm took over his lips and his voice. I felt the warm sticky fluid attach to my stomach, and his strong arms wrapped around me, pressing my body against his and smearing away the evidence. It was over, but his lips caught mine once again and we began kissing. We just couldn't end the night like this. One thing's for sure, I'll be able to cross _making love to Peeta next to a fire _off my bucket list after tonight.


	11. That sweet spot

Peeta moans softly and I take control like I had in what seemed like ages ago. I found myself on top of him as we made love on the floor near the fire, moving myself up and down on his crotch while watching the pleasure flicker across his face. We've made love so many times before but every time it just gets more real. I'm more able to see what's going on around us when I'm not completely blinded by the bliss and pleasure. In this position it's easier to see his face, and he should know by now that that's my favorite part.

"How do you do this to me?" he asks softly, his voice trembling and breaking several times as the pleasure rocks through him. It rocks through me as well, and I find that the harder I push myself onto him the better it feels for the both of us. I just wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his as he sits up, thrusting into me and moving in perfect synchronization. I groan and pant his name, begging for him to push harder. We were both sweating already and when he kissed me it felt like heaven. All my worries were gone because he loved me. I pushed him back again and started up again with our previous movement.

I observed everything. The way his eyebrows knit together when I come down particularly hard, how his chest rose and fell so quickly and he struggled to catch a breath, how his talented fingers clutched my thigh and his others twined themselves between my own. I felt his legs moving, heels running along the floor to find purchase. That was when I realized how close he was and that he was holding back. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, moaning wildly.

"Just let go, Peeta," I whisper in his ear. He whimpers in response and whispers back,

"What about you? Aren't you close?"

I thought about it for a moment. I had never really thought about my own pleasure, just his. I had never wanted anything but for Peeta to feel good.

"I don't know," I respond, eagerly catching my lips up in his in a passionate kiss. I moaned into it, to let him know that I felt ecstatic amounts of pleasure too, though it could never compare to what he did to me with his tongue. I would ask him to do it again, if I got up the courage.

His length is hard and warm as he pushes himself deeper, filling me up and making me feel the strangest sensation. If you do not know what it's like to be intertwined with another, it's odd yet incredible, and all I know is that I love him and I wanted more.

He pulls back at one point, so that the head of his penis is brushing against the outside of my body, teasing me. I hiss, the tip of his manhood touching that special spot he'd showed me earlier on. He knew what he was doing. He smiled tiredly at me and rubbed that part of himself against me. I held him tightly, whimpering "Peeta…"

He exhaled deeply and pushed himself back in, throwing me onto my back firmly yet softly, thrusting hard into me. He reached between us and started rubbing that spot with his fingers, watching my reaction. I didn't know what to do with myself, so I just cried his name and intertwined my fingers in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. He watched in ecstasy as he pleasured the both of us from a position of dominance. I found myself nearing an edge, the edge I knew Peeta was at a long time ago.

"Why don't you let go?" I pant, planting wet kisses along his neck and jaw, his face, his lips. He thrusted harder, whimpering from the euphoria.

"Fuck…Katniss…I'm close," he says, groaning again. He was getting louder but ceased to pleasure me in the way he knew I loved. "But I'm not letting go until you do…" He groaned again, this time falling out of it and shuddering, crying my name and grasping me tightly, slowing his movements but holding me tighter, his muscles flexing and sweat breaking out of our pores. He had already begun climaxing but tries to stop. "Katniss! God, please come!" he begs, slowing down for fear of coming completely without me. I focused on the way he was touching me and gasped, feeling my pleasure rise like it had before. It sent shockwaves through me and I arched myself against him, tightening around his manhood. We cry out together, his seed spilling into me and my sensitive muscles constricting around him, urging him on to continue climaxing.

"Peeta," I whisper as we come down from that high, still whimpering soft pants and stroking each other's bodies, hair, arms, necks…

We were panting and kissing on the floor, unable to let go of each other for fear of losing the bliss. It was just too warm and passionate to lose. He kisses down my body, to my still throbbing sensitive love making areas. He kisses me in the spot that drives me wild. I clutch his hair as his tongue makes tender swirls around the nerves, almost making me climax again. I groan and throw my head back.

He pulls back to smile at me after a few seconds of this. "That's the beautiful thing about women;" he says lovingly, "the feeling lingers and may still even be heightened after orgasm, makes my job easier." I just look at him for a moment before he kisses my lips.

"How do you know so much about this? I mean…I know about your situation at the capital…but are all women's bodies the same like this?" I question, admiring his beautiful baby face and blond curls, bright blue eyes, delicate pink lips. He shook his head.

"No…some were different…but experienced women were like this," he says, pulling back and laying down next to me, thinking about something.

"What is it?" I ask. He tears his eyes away from the fire and looks into mine.

"If I tell you will you promise not to get to upset? You have to remember, I didn't know that I loved you, they'd trained me to hate you…" he trails off and I know he's remembering something, calling back memories he probably doesn't want to.

"You don't have to tell me," I say, touching his chest.

"Well, it's something I feel like you should know." He looks like he's finally ready to tell me what it was like being a sex slave. I better prepare myself.


	12. The white room

Peeta heated up some apple cider and brought it back to the living room where I was. I was still naked, and having urges to clean myself up if we were going to be having a conversation.

"Hey I'll be right back okay?" I say, standing as he places his naked self next to me. "Wanna put some clothes on?" I ask with a chuckle. He stands up and shrugs, taking my hand and pulling me close, kissing me passionately. It feels like it's been so long since I've kissed him and I can't help but wrap my arms around his next and let myself become entranced with the softness of his lips.

"Shall we?" he says as he pulls away. I regain my breath and nod, heading up the stairs. I feel self conscious going up in front of him, and I have good reason. He pinched my butt and laughed at my startled reaction. He always does this.

"You're gunna have to start going up first you pervert," I snap, ignoring his cute pleads of forgiveness and yet making no attempt to hide his amusement.

"Aww but that's no fun!"

I toss one of his t-shirts at him and he puts it on after slipping on a pair of boxers. Why does he have to be so damn cute, just that face was enough to make me want to fall into his arms again. Just the way he smiles at me without a whim or a worry. It made me hesitant to remind him that he was to tell me his story. How else was he supposed to know so much about women's bodies? Did they tell him or did he just figure it out on his own?

The fact that he was brainwashed was beside the point, because despite it I was still torn apart inside that Peeta had been used sexually for so long with so many people. It doesn't feel like he had cheated because he didn't know of our love, but it still rips me apart that he went along with it anyway. Just because he didn't know doesn't mean he should've done it. Maybe he was forced…but what if he wasn't? What if he had a choice and he took the sex with other women? It felt like betrayal even though it wasn't. I know that my Peeta would never dream of it, but the women weren't brainwashed. They knew of us, what with our role in the games. They knew he wasn't who he was supposed to be, and that he was young. They didn't even know he wasn't a virgin, so for all they cared they were his first. His first of many. What if they weren't protected? What if one of them was carrying his child…? I never let these thoughts eat at my mind before but I was soon eager to erase them. To clear them all away somehow and cleanse my soul as well as his. He was mine and nobody else's and he did not make love to those women, he was forced to give sexual favors and he did not like it. He didn't like it…

The word forced seems to calm my nerves, but only lights them on fire again as I realize what I've told myself. That Peeta being forced to do something is better than doing something he wants. What's become of me?

I take one of his t-shirts and slip it over my head, my mind racing.

"Do you want some cider sweetheart?" he asks, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers, leading me downstairs. I nod.

"That sounds great," I say. He notices my sudden change in mood and hands me the cider with a marshmallow in it, knowing they're my favorite treat.

"So, do you think you're ready to hear about this?" he asks, sitting down by the fire and setting his cup on the coffee table.

"Are you ready to tell it to me?" I retort, still contemplating my answer.

"I think so…it's something you deserve to know, as my partner," he answers, thinking. I wait.

"What happened?" I push, the curiosity getting the best of me.

"Well," he starts, "first of all, they don't give you a choice, so don't think that I'm cheating on you…but in this certain instance, looking back, there was one time I think I did…" he looks at his hands, so I take one of them.

"Tell me what happened," I say softly, stroking his cheek. He smiles and nods.

"I don't know how the system worked, maybe they called a hotline and asked for blond, but at any time of the day or night they would call to my chamber and take me away. I would go either to the woman's home, or the man's, and they would do what they wanted with me. Sometimes though, about 40% of the time I'd go to this one room, with white walls, and a single bed. Nothing else. I'd sit there and wait for the person who'd called for me," he tells me, waiting on my reaction.

"Men?" I question.

"They weren't common, but I've served a few," he says, and surprisingly he doesn't seem so hurt by it, almost like he wants to laugh at it. Like it was a silly dream.

"Anyway," he continues, "there was this one time that I was in my chamber, waiting on supper when they called for me. The light above my door went off which signaled they would fetch me in five minutes and I had that amount of time to finish what I was doing and prepare for the serve, whoever it was." I took my place at his side and held his hand in mine, sipping on my cider and waiting for more of the story. He sighed. "I rinsed off in the shower and soon there was a peacekeeper at my door. I hadn't served anyone else that day and so I was in a relatively good mood, ready to get this over with. The peacekeeper, his name I learned was Sedreck, asked me how I was doing.

'Fine,' I responded.

'I think this one's gunna be a little different for you,' he says. I look at him, curiously.

'How so?' I ask him.

You see, Sedreck was almost like a friend, he would sneak me treats at night when I had gotten a bad review and was refused supper. He cared about my opinions."

"The people would review you?" I ask, astonished. He must've been refused supper a lot in the beginning. I can't imagine he would be so willing at first, despite his brainwashing.

"Yes, and if it was bad then I got no food, and if it was good I was given new clothes. Sometimes though, they didn't even review and nothing changed. Reviewing was optional," he says. "Anyway, Sedreck was off today.

'I don't know Pete, this one's just different.' He leans in and whispers in my ear. 'She can't be older than fifteen.' I stopped and looked at him in amazement.

'Fifteen? Is that even legal?' And all Sedreck does is shrug. He's comfortable with me today, seeing as he's taken off his helmet. He only does that on good days.

'It's been requested you meet her in the white room.' I just stand there. Why would a fifteen year old girl request me? And how on earth could the capital allow that?

'This is a joke right?' I ask Sedreck as we reach the door to the room.

'Nope. Get in there boy, have fun,' he says as he opened the door. He always said that before letting me into the room. _Have fun…_

So I went into the room and took all of my clothes off like I usually do, setting them in the basket where they belonged. Then I took the pill Sedreck had given me. Viagra, because I can't always have an erection when they want." He stops and waits for my reaction.

"I still don't see how you think you cheated on me, you didn't know," I say.

"Wait, you'll see what I mean," he assures. I start to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. He had a point, this girl probably was different, a little girl like that, four years younger…

"Keep going," I remind him. He nods. But I take his face in my hands and kiss his lips, just to remind him it was going to be okay. "I love you."

He grins at me and kisses me back, inhaling deeply before deciding to continue.

"So I sat on the bed and waited for about ten minutes, then the door opened, and in the beginning of it all I would always cover myself, not wanting a stranger to see me naked. But at this point I had grown out of that habit. This girl came in and I was surprised to see she was already naked, and was covering herself. Sedreck stood behind her with another peacekeeper, and his face looked pained. Like he had recently learned something I hadn't. The other peacekeeper pushed the frightened looking girl into the room. She looked back at them desperately as the door closed, and I'll never forget the look on Sedrecks face as it did. She turned to look at me and sunk to the floor, covering her body up in as many places possible. I was so confused, usually the women would not say a word, seeing as I wasn't permitted to speak and couldn't respond. But this girl was already talking.

'Who are you?' she says, her long blond hair hung in her face. It was a very light blond, almost like the sun, nearly white. Katniss, she was beautiful. But she was most definitely a lot younger than me, maybe even fourteen." He looks at me and I wrap my arm around his torso, waiting for him to go on about this girl. "I couldn't say anything to her so I leaned over to the basket and found my discarded shirt, handing it to her. It was about her, anything she wanted. That was my job, please the caller. So she took my shirt and covered her chest with it, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them.

'Who are you?' she asks again, reliant on my answer.

'Peeta,' I say. Her eyes are bright blue and her skin tone light. 'Will you be needing assistance?' I ask, gesturing to the bed. She shakes her head and gives me back my shirt, slowly standing and sitting next to me. She just looks at me, waiting, that scared look in her eyes. I wish I had figured it out then…"

"Figured what out?" I asked.

"You'll get it, just listen," he answered. "So I leaned in to her and she layed back against the bed, falling into my movements. I didn't know what to do because I was supposed to be doing what she wanted, but she was giving me no instruction. I've had several other people like this, but they at least knew what they wanted enough to start off themselves. This girl just seemed to wait. So when she layed back I figured she wanted me on top. We were usually given protection, but this time I wasn't handed any. Sometimes the women can request no protection, but that wouldn't impact their sensory to the act so it never happened until now. It was mostly the men who rejected protection.

'Do you want me to be on top, is this fine?' she whispers to me. I don't know what to think because no one has ever asked me what I wanted before. It caught me off guard, and I take a moment to think about it.

'I'll do whatever works for you, miss,' I say. She takes a deep breath and nods.

'This position is fine.' I take the lubrication they've given us and apply it to myself because she doesn't know what steps to take. I'm assuming this is her first time calling in. All of the women I've had are different, and some I've had multiple times, so I knew what to do with them in particular, and others were knew to calling in, some new to just calling in to me. If I did well, sometimes that woman would return to me again in a few days.

Anyway, once everything was ready I started the process. Surprisingly, she put her hands on my neck and kissed me. I hadn't been kissed before, not since I'd last seen you," he pauses, thinking about it. "But I kissed her back, and tried to move into her. But she yelped and pulled away, her eyes closed. I didn't know what I had done wrong but I waited for her to recover anyway.

'Can we please do this under the covers?' she asks. This was also strange, women usually wanted it to be erotic and spontaneous, but this girl seemed like she wanted passionate. Something I hadn't felt in a very long time…"

"Peeta," I say.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Did you know you weren't a virgin while all this happened?" I whispered.

"No…well, kind of. I never knew for sure. But, just listen, I'll explain this," he says, kissing me softly. I twist my fingers in his hair and moan quietly, making my claim. He was mine. When I pulled away he smiled at me and kept talking.

"So we got under the covers and I proceeded to enter her again, and again, she started kissing me. So I kissed her back, but as soon as I got in a little bit she pulled away and started whimpering. I didn't know what I was doing wrong, I had never done it this way before and it was so confusing.

'Sorry, I'm so sorry,' she says, tears starting to form in her eyes. I shook my head, still afraid to speak.

'Don't be sorry,' I tell her. I give her a weak smile. Sedreck was right, this girl was very different. But anyway, it took us nearly ten more minutes but soon I was in about halfway and she was crying softly. I kept trying to stop but she urges me on. She was tight, and when I reached a block I knew what it was. She was a virgin. I suddenly felt an immense amount of pressure to not screw this up. She entrusted me with the act of deflowering her and now I knew it.

'Just do it,' she ordered. I knew what she meant and took a deep breath, getting ready to break it. I was scared, but something in the back of my mind told me it would be okay. She took my face in her hands and kissed me once again, and I took that advantage, pushing in all the way. I had chills running through my body, my spine tingled. I felt a pop and heard a ripping sound, and it startled me so much, what with the pleasure and the feeling, I pulled away and groaned in surprise. She screamed though, and that was the sound that made me realize I'd been too rough. I had never been so scared; I don't know what it was about her that made me so paranoid.

'I'm so sorry!' I told her, trying to pull out but stopping myself. That would only make her pain worse. I had to stay in and wait for her to calm down, and then she could choose if she wanted to continue. She had snuck her arms under mine and around my back, her legs wound around my waist, like a baby monkey," Peeta chuckled, "it made me feel like I had a purpose other than just my body. It was like she was looking at my face too, like I meant something more than just a first time. Like it was me, not just a man. But anyway, she told me to keep going, and so we did, and it took us a half hour to get into it, but we were too people, having sex, not just a man pleasuring a woman. Or should I say, a girl…I still don't know how old she was…

But after almost an hour, she was on top of me, her hands on my chest, and the rhythm ecstatic. She learned to take control after she realized I was willing to whatever. Every so often though she had her hands on my neck, kissing me. She pulled away and looked at me, watching me, like something about my face was crucial.

'Does it feel good?' she asked me. I nod, unsure if that was allowed for me. I knew that nobody like it when I moaned, and you know that it's hard for me not to," he says to me. I laugh.

"That's an understatement," I tell him. I try to keep my cool even though this story was piercing my heart with every line.

"Anyway, at this point, I felt like I was gunna explode. She was so tight and so warm; her lips were so soft, every time she moved I had a feeling of déjà vu. I felt like somehow I'd been here before. I felt myself nearing climax, but that was simply out of the question so I put my hands on her hips and stopped her movement, figuring I should warn her so she can be aware.

'I'm getting a bit close,' I say, trying not to make a sound, and somehow she knows.

'If you are then why aren't you moaning, all you're doing is panting,' she says.

'You would be okay with that?' I make sure. She nods.

'In fact I want you to. I don't want to think that I'm not good,' she says, kissing me again and again."

"You weren't allowed to orgasm?" I ask.

"Never, so I was allowed to get near the edge, but climaxing was out of the question. Which made the protection almost pointless except for infection."

"That's so mean," I whisper. He laughs.

"I know, but its okay," and he takes a sip of his cider, warming his hands by the fire. Outside the snow is stuck to the window, probably five feet up the side of the house. It's been snowing like crazy lately.

"So she kept going, and I let loose, so did she. It was all so familiar but I didn't know where it was coming from. I felt myself nearing that edge again, so of course my voice gave me away.

'Close?' she asked.

'Yes,' I answer, moaning. She smiled at me and I smiled back, actually happy. I didn't want it to end, and that scared me. Because somewhere in my mind I felt like I shouldn't want this. Like I was betraying something, someone. You, but I hadn't known. She kept going anyway, and that warmth, that ecstasy that I felt with you a few minutes ago started to come up. I grabbed the sheets and squeezed my eyes shut, a mix of sounds I can't name spilling out of my mouth. That nagging feel I had the entire time was gone for the time being because I was climaxing for the first time in a long time." Peeta stopped. I waited.

"What happened next?" I asked.

"She kissed me, then Sedreck took her away before I could say goodbye or kiss back."


	13. AN: Story behind Peeta's story read!

**A/N: If you want to know why I wrote that last chapter, and why Peeta had told her what he did when he knew it would hurt her, then read this. **

**It's going to tell you some very personal things about my love life, so please don't judge me, and if you were to judge me, remember that I have feelings and this particular thing is very hard for me to type. I didn't want to because I wanted to heal, and get over it, but at this moment I was caught back up in the pain of the memory, so I might as well get it out now…**

**I had a friend, her name was Makenzie. She has been my friend since 2****nd**** grade. We were good friends. One year she went away on spring break in Florida, and when she returned she had a boyfriend whom she'd met there. I was in her room and we were just hanging out, I being twelve and her being eleven and starting to hit puberty. She was on the phone with this boy who she soon found out lived in Dallas, Georgia. (We live in Grand Rapids, Michigan.) She said she had to go downstairs to get something and made me talk to her for a moment, keep him entertained. I told her I didn't want to but she begged me until I gave in. So I talked to this boy, she called him JR, and it was awkward. Then she came back. **

** I hung out with her more often, like I usually did, and every time I was there we would talk to him. We spoke for a while, and I can't remember if they had broken up or not, but we were all tight. I remember being on the phone with him, asking him who he had a crush on. He said a girl named Emily, and someone else. Who else? He wouldn't say. I finally cracked him and he said "you silly." I laughed and said,**

** "But we've never met!" Well that never stopped us…**

** He lost contact with Makenzie, and me. I text him, no reply. In April of 2008 my grama Momo had a birthday party, and I remember me and my friend Hailey escaping upstairs to have some alone time and talk about girl things. We were bored, so we texted random people in our phones. I text him, and he replied. We texted for hours at the party, and later at Hailey's house, we continued to send each other messages. Hailey was asleep; I was next to her, engaged in conversation when I realized this boy was different. I had feelings for him I didn't for anyone else. I felt something, he did something. I told him I loved him that night, and he said he loved me to. I never knew if he meant it, but whether he did at the moment or not, he did fall in love with me, too. I didn't even know what he looked like!**

** We talked every night for a year…and things got heated…his voice was stained into my brain… I fell in love with this boy so deeply, so passionately, it drove me insane. He says he felt the same. Late at night he would say such poetic beautiful things, heartwarming things…**

** We realized we were horny for each other, (looking back that was a lot of our relationship, despite that there was passionate love, like Katniss and Peetas relationship), we were starting to recognize that part of ourselves. He said he wanted to know what it felt like, and that he knew a few girls on his street who would be willing to show him. I snapped and yelled, **

** "No! Don't lose your virginity so young! Just jack off," I say. Virginity has always meant the world to me. His did, mine too. I vowed to lose my virginity on the night of my wedding, and I still keep that promise to myself today. **

** Anyway, he claimed he didn't know what that was, and so I named it masturbation instead. He was still clueless. He was a twelve year old boy who didn't know. I told him to touch himself and rub; the he'd know when he was done. He did, and when it was over he texted, 'it felt great'. I smiled. Good, he wouldn't lose his virginity. So a few more months, and we started doing it together, texting at the same time, telling each other what we would do if we were with each other. That was the most common message we sent to each other, 'what would you do if you were here?' And that stemmed the beginning to a lot of 'making love', which was basically four forms of sexting. First we would text what was happening. Who was touching who and where, how. **

** Then we were on the phone, and I heard him in his vulnerable moments. (Where Peetas moans come from, Katniss loves it like I loved it…) By the way, I found out JR stood for Junior, so his name was Sean. (But not really, two years into the relationship I found out his birth name was Barry Sean Conner Jr., but I just called him Sean since that's what he preferred.)**

** We started talking and texting while doing things with ourselves…but each other…if you understand that…**

** A year and a half of being in love and making love and devotion, he said he hated me and told me to never talk to him again. He said he fell in love with someone else, Sam. (BTW- we were not dating. We would date other people but at night had each other on our phones. It made all our relationships unfaithful.) **

_**Going back a few weeks… I was at a football game for my school. I asked my friend Ashley if I could use her phone to call him. She still had the number and her friend Sam stumbled across it while messing with Ashley's phone. She called him and started up what he had started with me… I wasn't the same after that. I told him that he was making a mistake and he left anyway. **_

__**Well a few months after that, painful process of getting over him almost complete, he called. I knew who it was when I answered but asked anyway. He said who he was and begged for my forgiveness. I gave it up too easily, but still made him feel terrible for what he did. Not enough though, never enough. **

** Skipping more details, we started again and another year went by. Girls stole his phone, knowing he and I had something. They read his messages and texted me pretending to be him, told me never to speak to him again for no reason. He never realized it until it was too late, never did anything to protect me. Each time it happened I would cry myself to sleep in pitiful sobs. Each time I vowed I'd never speak to him again but failed. Along that second time around, we'd sent pictures of ourselves to each other. So that was the third way, and on our third year we tried Skype. **

** That happened once using the video, other times we messaged. But we would Skype often, see each other. **

** Another thing, Sean was…well, to me he was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. He had light brown hair that hung over his forehead, crystal blue eyes, and the most adorable gap between his two front teeth. He was a redneck type, with an accent and muscular build. He was huge, abnormally thick for his age. Not at all overweight, but just, built and…big. Tall. (He used to be the chubby kid, but lost this weight and all the girls in his school realized how sexy he was.) His face did something to me…and he said the exact same thing about me. Always telling me how beautiful I was, and amazing. Amazing was his favorite word to describe everything we did. He always told me he wanted to lose his virginity to me on our wedding night, and so did I. **

** Then he got serious with his girlfriend Kelsey, and I did with Bryce. I was falling in love with Bryce quickly, and soon we'd been together for three months, then five, then seven, then nine…then a year. I wanted things with him that I wanted with Sean. But when I hear Sean's voice, think of him, or see him, it snaps something in my mind that Bryce doesn't. He was just always…**_**the one, **_**no matter how incredible Bryce was. I tried to be faithful with Bryce, because he was different, just somehow the most amazing person I had ever met. But I failed, and it was the hardest thing in the world telling him. **

** I told Sean I couldn't speak to him anymore. He didn't fight for me, he never has. When I first met him he was sweet, comedic, strong, and innocent. Over the years he developed into this person I barely knew. He kept things from me, and when I said things, he retorted with a response that sounded like I had no idea what I was talking about, like I had no idea who he was. We were the best of friends, I told him everything, but apparently he didn't. He just changed, and that's what hurt the most. **

** A few months later we started speaking again, and just after we had started to get back into what we had, I exploded. He was him and he was more hesitant when answering questions. After a break in the relationship, we'd always ask the same question. "Are you still a virgin?" the answer was always yes for us. "Good."**

** I said I couldn't speak to him again after getting in a fight with his girlfriend Kelsey on facebook. And I didn't, I couldn't. I had been hurt so much and I didn't want to cry over him anymore. I blocked him from facebook, I blocked Kelsey too. I blocked him from Skype, and mom wanted to block him from my phone. So I let her. **

** Time passed, but there was a hole in my heart. The memory of him would forever be there. I had more time to focus on Bryce, devote myself to him. I found a new friend, Orion. And Jameela, we all lived in the same neighborhood, called ourselves the three musketeers. I started to get a little crush on Orion, and when we got closer I decided to tell him about Sean. We were on the back of his truck, it was nearly midnight, and Jameela was wondering around in the street in front of us, singing pointlessly. I started to cry, the memory of Sean singeing the edges of the whole in my heart. Orion pulled me into his arms and I cried into his neck, letting loose. He just kept telling me to let it out, that it was going to get better. He didn't know it doesn't matter if Sean and I don't speak; even the thought of him is the most painful thing in my world. It's agony. **

** Three weeks ago, I got a call. On the last day of school water had gotten splashed onto my screen, so it was broken. It was white and I couldn't see a thing. But I knew where the contacts button was, and if I typed a name and pushed send it would call. I didn't normally get calls, seeing as I wouldn't notice. I was getting ready to go to Orion's, but mom said I had to eat first. So I was shoving spaghetti into my face when my phone buzzed. I picked it up and said hello, mouth full. **

** "Hi," the voice said. **

** "Who's this?" I asked, letting my dog Stella out. **

** "Um…well…," he sounded tired, sad. **

** "Yeah?"**

** "I'll just let you go then." That sparked something, and I knew it was someone I knew, because that was familiar. He said it whenever he was pouting. I just couldn't remember who. **

** "No seriously I broke my phone I can't see the screen who is this?"**

** He paused. "It's Sean." I froze. I thought my mom blocked him. I thought it was finally over. **

** "What the hell do you want from me?" I snapped. **

** "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied softly. **

** I just have to say that it took countless hours of crying myself to sleep and pain for me to finally stand up to him, and when I finally did I sent him a message on facebook before blocking him. It said how much I hated him, I hated him because he hated me and he had no reason to. I was there for everything and always supported him and helped him and loved him and he never repaid me. It was harsh, and brutal, and it dragged another few hours of body rocking tears out of me. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. **

** We got to talking, and I knew this time would be different. We'd never have what we had again. It just hurt too much. He wasn't him, not at all. He was hollow; he didn't feel anything for me. But he cared, it's why he called. To make sure I was still alive, still safe, and healthy. He said he'd tried to call me every night before bed, and I never picked up. I didn't know I was getting calls. **

** I asked him the big question, and he gave me an honest answer. No, he wasn't a virgin anymore. My still mending heart cracked in half and bleeds still at this moment. Me being the idiot I was, told him I was over it and asked if he at least enjoyed himself. Said it was the best 45 seconds of his life, and she was simply the most amazing girl he'd ever met in his existence. It didn't last long because she had been crying so hard, (he was very blessed in the genital department, trust me…) and they stopped. I later found out they'd experimented sexually in other ways too, handjobs and what not. Every word killed a part of me, but I tried to stay strong. He was just so descriptive, and eventually I broke down crying. He said that what made him snap and make him want to lose his virginity to her was my message. I had made him want to lose his virginity at fifteen years old. That was how I was certain I was never going to see Sean again. The boy who wanted to marry me and have four children, our first conceived on a beach under the moon on our wedding night, was gone.**

** I knew it wasn't going to happen, but it hurt me more than anything ever has. I broke down in tears, telling him I couldn't do it, couldn't talk to him. He said ok. He still refused to fight. I wasn't worth it. He said I was always on the back of his mind, he'd never completely forget about me, and while I appreciate it, I was now alone in my feelings. We text to this day, occasionally, sharing any bits of extremely important information. I deleted his number, but I know it still. I can't forget it no matter how hard I try. **

** Just a few days ago Bryce and I decided to take a break. My feelings for Orion are growing. But Bryce is different, still. He is perfect. He is who I need in my life, who I want to marry. He'll never be Sean, but I know for sure he won't get lost in his own mind, lose the will to live and just keep going because life is okay enough. He has something. **

**~~~I made Peeta tell Katniss about his experience as a sex slave because I wanted to hurt her like Sean hurt me. I could've been harsher, but I spared her. She deserved better than that. **


	14. Hormones

**Help me get to 100 reviews! You get me there and love me still, and I'll update…hmmm… well you be the judge. How often should I update? Every… WEDNESDAY. Unless I feel like updating another time. Nobody likes Wednesdays…might as well give you something to look forward to. By the way, I'm a bad person, it's been months, I know… Sorry… Maybe the horny storm of Katniss and Peeta has passed and all my fans wanna stab me now, but I think I'll try updating again anyway…**

Another note was laid perfectly flat against the pillow next to my head. That is until I rolled over and crushed it. I took the crumpled thing and smoothed it out again, trying to tame the wild beast that was my hair. It was in my face, making it impossible for me to read what he'd written. It wasn't going to be a surprise anyway; all it was going to say was that he was at the bakery.

'_Sorry about the way things turned out last night, it was going great until that overwhelming detail ruined everything… I am so sorry. _

_Really…_

_I promise I'll make it up to you, as soon as I figure out how. (: _

_I love you, and I'll be home before noon._

_-P'_

I tried not to remember Peetas story last night. I needed to take care of myself, I needed to bathe… I pushed the sheets away and checked the digital clock on the bedside table. Eight in the morning. I needed to get up, I needed to get out into the forest and hunt before angry people showed up at my door expecting their orders. Most of them were due by the end of the week. I needed five squirrels, two rabbits, and two deer. But I always steered clear of the babies, that was something I couldn't bear to do, doesn't matter if was the only deer I saw all day. I would wait until a more humane option came along.

The deer have just started to come around again, now that most of the fences were torn down and they no longer had a reason to be so afraid.

**two months later.**

I dragged the game under what was left of the dead fence, and made my way home. The trek was always something Peeta failed to accomplish on his own. I've tried to take him hunting with me, but it seems he's more comfortable behind the counter surrounded by flower. I've found that despite the fact that he makes bread as well, pastries are his absolute passion. Cakes and cupcakes, they're something that we are never low on.

I made it home in time for preparation, which was at noon at Greasy Sae's new shop. I'd helped her to rebuild and make more of a profit with the best of my game. She's graduated from soup and has proven herself to be a better cook than the district imagined having, considering she stemmed from the Hob. Whenever Peeta and I choose not to eat at home we go to her, knowing at least her food is fresh. I'd only caught it earlier that week. I owed it to everyone in the Hob to supply only the best I could find, in return for showing their support our first time around in the games. We don't have any money here, but the people in the Hob pooled what they had and became supporters because of Greasy Sae's generous offers. She probably offered them food…

Who knows? I never bothered to ask her, never thought it fit. The games were over, and it was time to start over.

As for Peeta I saw something good coming for us.

It was obvious now that I was pregnant. I was starting to show, more and more every day. One other thing I've been noticing were my hormones; I wanted Peeta every hour of the day. Today was one of those days I just couldn't wait, and I had to actually go to the bakery because he wasn't getting home soon enough.

After dropping off the game at the Hob, I started to make my way there. Nobody noticed yet that I was pregnant, but they would soon. We had decided not to tell anyone until we figured out if it was a boy or a girl.

Soon though I wasn't going to be able to hide this. The paparazzi were going to go nuts, _"The new Mellark baby replaces its lost sibling." _Since the whole world thinks we already lost a child…this will be considered a miracle.

"Peeta," I say as I walk into the sweet aroma of break and frosting. A few people are scattered around, looking at things to buy. I smile at them and walk into the back.

He's sitting on a stool doing something I never really understood to dough. Hitting it?

"Hello sweetheart," he says kindly, glancing up at me before returning to his work.

"Can you take a break?" I ask, fearing this could get out of hand quickly. I was never this type of person, but things are taking control of my body quickly. It's rapid, and scary, but I know I'll love this. Peeta feels so much better; my body is so much more sensitive.

"I guess I could for a minute," he says, stopping what he's doing to wash his hands. Once he's done he embraces me. "Was there something you needed?" He asks.

I nod, "Mhmm." Then I drop to my knees and yank his pants down. He gasps, falling back against the counter.

"Katniss!" he whispers loudly. But as shocked as he seems I know this is going how I want it to. Why else would he have a boner? "This is so dangerous, not here," he tries to say, but his voice falters and he grows more reluctant as I start to stroke.

"Can't make love right now? I might be busy later," I murmur against his manhood. He breathes slowly, trembling.

"I just…"

"Shhh," and then he's in my mouth. I have grown quite fond of doing this for him over the past few weeks, ever since I discovered I could it's been a gem in our sex life. He groans softly, tangling his fingers in my hair. But I can feel him trembling, I know he's paranoid. If we were home he'd be so much more firm and unrestricted, less professional.

"Katniss…" he trails off.

"Let's get outta here," I say, standing up and wiping my mouth. He pulls his pants up and I take his hand.

"Can I at least put this in the oven first? I'll have to come back later…"

I nod and he blushes furiously, I just walk out the door and grin at the customers like nothing happened while I wait for Peeta.


	15. Kitchen counter

Doing this wasn't what it used to be. Sexy couldn't come to describe how the things we did amounted to words, it was like we brought ourselves to a new world. Or maybe it was just me, or the hormones, but I certainly knew one thing; aside from the morning sickness, I loved being pregnant. My body was sensitive, it was new, it was like this life growing inside me not only brought me to a new level of happiness that I haven't achieved in years but also made the air tenderer.

My skin felt the emotions that Peeta's body radiated. The environment around me was rich, the colors brighter and far more vibrant. Like the life had slowly crept back into the world one leaf at a time.

Sex with Peeta was like equivalent to being bathed in honey while also falling through the sky and flying through the clouds during a lighting storm. It was electrifying and every nerve ending in my body was a life wire, any spark of communication and it would convulse rapidly. It was times like this that I was eternally grateful we were the only ones in the victors' village, and Haymitch was almost always asleep. I was screaming, the point of bloody murder.

Like I said, everything was heightened, increased, _bigger, _per say. And yes, he was bigger. It didn't just feel that way, but when we'd first had intercourse he was still coming out of adolescence, and wasn't done growing. God, it was satisfying, it was like his body was advancing at the same rate as mine. The more I wanted him the bigger he got, and I was perfectly content with him now. He was amazing, and felt so god damn good.

"Harder," I demanded in what was left of my raspy voice, he buried his face in my neck and groaned in ecstasy, complying mercifully. I was on the kitchen counter, Peeta standing between my legs thrusting in and out as hard and fast as he could. Thankfully I wasn't going to let this last just a few seconds; I needed it to be as long as possible. We'd started quickly, not even bothering to remove all of our clothes, just the ones in the way of our sexual demands. I was glad; his shirt was safer to hang on to as he delved deeper into me. If he wasn't wearing clothes I would hold him so tightly I might hurt him, pull his hair too hard.

"Fuck, Katniss," he breaths heavily, "too fast," he warned. I nodded and held him tighter, trying to slow his movements and keep his hips from rocking too quickly. He was trembling.

This was the one downside to sex with Peeta; he came too quickly. His body isn't capable of doing this again and again and again so I've learned that the only way to keep going hard and fast is to stop when he's getting close, kiss, and continue as soon as he's far enough from his peak. His pants fell from his hips and dropped to the floor as he slowed, my legs crossing behind his back, pushing him further into me, causing us both to moan a string of profanities.

"So deep," I whimpered into his ear, and he whimpered pitifully in response, desperately trying to regain his jagged breath as he quits his movements completely. I was dominant in this sex life now, and he loves it.

"You're," pants, "so," pants, "insane, sweetheart." He pulls back to kiss me, nibbling on my bottom lip and running his tongue across it. I grant him entry and part my lips slowly, running my tongue along his, a fight for dominance. This was where Peeta sometimes tried to take me into his grip; he was a man after all.

Sometimes he was dominant, and that was so very exciting. The thought drove me insane and my wet center began throbbing around his aching manhood. We both needed this, but we'd need it more if we finished this early. But instead we ravaged each other's lips on this countertop, devouring each other. It was pure heated passion and desire as he kissed my neck, bodies fitting together perfectly, hips steadily starting to rock again. We both gasped at the feeling of this delicious grinding.

"Do it," I growl, taking his hair in my fingers and crushing my lips against his. "Take me, Peeta Mellark," I moan, clutching at every visible part of skin. At this point pain was a good thing, it kept us from flying away to heaven, so I tugged his shirt up and pulled it over his head. He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his, clouded with pleasure and cheeks blazing, lips parted and panting vigorously. His eyebrows pulled together and he dug his fingers into my hips, leaning his head back and thrusting hard. I was torn. I wanted to see his face, I wanted to see the pleasure I caused him and he wanted the same, but I also wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him as close as possible. I yanked him close and kissed him to keep from screaming again.

"Harder?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around me and pulling us closer together, a sign that he was ready to climax and spend the rest of the night with me in his arms. I thought to myself how sweet that sounded, so agreed to let him orgasm the next time the opportunity presented itself.

"Fuck, yes, I'm close," I nod, throwing my head back and squeezing my legs around his waist. He doesn't stop moaning and neither do I; we can do nothing but go insane in our own minds and keep thrusting.

"I'm there," he warns, moving faster, more than I thought possible at this point. "I'm gunna-," but I pull him closer before he can form coherent words, and I can see the massive explosion of pleasure erupt in his eyes. His jaw falls open, his eyes are squeezed shut tightly in preparation, and he's screaming. He's screaming like me, but it's masculine, manly, sexy, firm, and it sends chills through my body, and I feel my own explosion.

It wasn't often that we climax together, but when we do it's quite a blessing. I guess this was just one of those times, only further proving that this was the best sex of my life. But there's something different about it this time, something coming out of me, but I don't think I realize really what it was until after we've evened our breathing enough to think straight.

"Tell me it's always gunna be this amazing after we have our baby," he pants, and as I pull back to look at him I can't help but laugh and smile from happiness. His face is red, and I can feel his entire body throbbing. His eyes are half closed, a grin forming on his open mouth, blue eyes sparkling brightly beneath the shaggy dirty blond hair that was basically everywhere. I could only imagine how slaphappy I looked.

"I wish I could tell you it would be," I reply, starting to think more about what had happened with my orgasm. No doubt it was possibly the best I've ever felt, but what had come out of me? Two things occurred to me; there was something wrong with the baby, or I'd ejaculated. I'd only heard about it from the vulgar part of society and the media, referred to as 'squirting'. It was weird, and I didn't think it possible for me, or common to say the least.

"So hot baby," Peeta whispers, kissing my lips over and over and again, intimately, calming down from the crazy state we were just in. He must really be horny, because he doesn't call me baby anywhere but in bed. Or, on the counter. We were still intertwined, and I didn't bother to remind him.

"What is?"

"You, coming with me, you've never done it that way before," he grins. So he had noticed. I nod, thinking it over.

"It was very interesting," I tell him, kissing him this time for a long time, just pressing my lips against his in a long, passionate, drawn out lip lock.

"It was very hot!" he exclaims when we finally part. "I've never been so happy to leave work early, you're an _animal!" _I grin, happy that I'd pleased him.

"I know, it's hard to believe," I chuckle. He laughs and hugs me tightly, kissing my neck and moaning with content, a calming sound.

"Let's go get washed up, I wanna show you something," he says, seductively pulling out, slowly, agonizingly. He knows it turns me on to do this. Dominance was a loose term in this relationship indeed.


	16. Round two?

"I still don't know if I've had enough," I tease as I wrap my arms around him from behind. He laughs; he hadn't even made it to the stairs before I'd asked him for more. I could feel the inevitable rejection coming my way so I quickly stripped myself of the rest of my clothes. He turns around and holds me.

"You've become a master seductress," he comments, kissing my neck. "What about what I wanted to show you?" he asks. I carefully scrape my nails along his back and give a soft moan, kissing his bicep. It just enough to show him how badly I really wanted him.

"It can't wait?" I question. He sighs.

"I guess it can." I hadn't imagined it would be that easy. He suddenly has me scooped up in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist before he carries me to the couch where we call against each other, him cradling me in his arms from above. "Just remind me that I have to get back to the bakery by four," he says against my skin, sliding in. He's still hard.

"You got it chief," I say lightly, trying not to moan too loudly.

"You're so wet," he says in a heavy breath, pulling back to grin at me before our hips fall into a steady rhythm.

"It's your fault," I tell him, wrapping my legs around him tighter and requesting he go faster. This time wasn't as heated and rushed as the last, but it still felt damn good.

"Fuck, it feels so…sensitive…," he whispers, closing his eyes as we move. There isn't too much screaming, or moaning, but there is an overwhelming amount of love. Soon though I can feel myself nearing that edge, sooner than before.

"I'm close," I tell him, and he groans into my neck. He starts to thrust harder, and I clutch him closely, moaning his name. My cries of euphoria grow, and soon I'm nearly as loud as I was on the counter a few minutes ago.

"Oh baby," Peeta groans as he kisses me, "you're so fucking sexy." We panted heavily and suddenly he's saying the same thing over and over again. "I love you, I love you, I love you," and I realize exactly how much my hormones have gotten in the way of our sex life. I haven't truly made love to Peeta in weeks…

"I love you too, my sweet Peeta," I pant softly, pressing my lips passionately against his. From that point on we're making sweet love, and every moment is so rich and so beautiful that I can't help but scream out his name with every movement, his moans falling between mine in perfect harmony.

I'm falling off that edge, and I start climaxing, kissing him with all I had. I whimper and bury my face in his neck, rocking my hips against his. I ride it out for as long as I can, touching Peeta's body and indulging myself in him until I can't take it anymore.

He pulls out and starts touching himself, breathing hitched and guttural moans spilling out with ecstasy. After a few more seconds his release clings to my stomach, some of it even landing on my breasts. His face is tucked away in my neck, and when it's over he kisses me, and this is the point where we both finally stop moaning. I don't even have the chance to wrap my arms around him and sigh before there's a frantic pounding on the front door. We both jolt, momentarily scared shitless.

"I just died a little bit," Peeta complained, face and body still glistening, cheeks blushing a deep pink. "I'll get it," he says. I nod and he stands up, finding his boxers in a pile with his pants by the counter. That was when I noticed he hadn't even bothered to take the prosthetic leg off. Wow, his body is so great… He looks so amazing in those boxers…

"You're not going to answer the door like that are you?" I question from the couch, wrapping the blanket around myself.

"Why not," he shrugs.

"It's winter, and the air is cold outside!"

"Too late," he chimes as he swings the door open to reveal a very hazy and pissed off looking Haymitch. He storms in and points a finger at us both, ranting off immediately.

"Come right in," Peeta mutters to himself, closing the door.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to endure one round with you two? Why can't you be satisfied with just one?! You're the ones making me do this! You can't just scream bloody murder and not expect anyone else to hear you; this isn't your own personal porno!" We both listen to him go on and on about how nasty is for him to hear this every hour of every day.

"Now that's hardly true," Peeta retorts, reaching for his pants. I hitch the blankets up higher around my shoulders.

"Really? Did you not just finish round two?" Haymitch snaps, pointing to me. Peeta blushes.

"Exactly."

"Is that the reason you came over?" Peeta wonders, handing me the rest of my clothes. "Because we're done now," he says.

"No." Haymitch's mood shifts, and he suddenly looks like he's about to give us bad news. I knew it never bothered him before, but over the years I know he's grown attached to us. "A young lady came to my door earlier, as we were talking I started to realize she was from the capital. As soon as she said Peetas name as if right on cue we could hear you two going at it," Haymitch shrugs and looks down, obviously avoiding the rest of what he has to tell us.

"Well…who is she?" Peeta asks, pulling a jacket on, preparing to go back to work probably.

"Didn't get a name, but she came here for you, just didn't know which house you lived in. Found me instead. She's outside," he says, gesturing to the door. Peeta rolls his eyes.

"Winter just ended, it's freezing out Haymitch," Peeta grumbles as he goes over to the door and flinging it open. He stands still, stuttering incoherently as he takes in who was here. I finish slipping on my clothes inconspicuously before he lets her in, without a word.

The woman has long bleach blond hair, almost white, and she is stunning.

She's also holding a child, fast asleep in her arms. He has curly blond hair, and I was certain that if he opened his eyes they would be bright blue. Just like Peetas.


	17. Sumpter, and those precious blue eyes

**STOP. IT.**

**Get your horny little acts together and stop complaining because the story isn't perfect. I wouldn't be an author if I didn't include content that was even mildly upsetting. You should read some of the shit I've read…rape…multiple miscarriages… Could be a lot worse, knowing my type of horrid macabre entertainment preferences… I'm going easy on you.**

**Now I realize I'm being harsh, and I apologize, but if you don't like the turn my story is taking I'm not forcing you to read it… And I'm sorry if you think that I'm being mean now. I don't mean to be, I'm (relatively) not a mean person. But it's fictional, it's mine, and I'll do with it what I want. Come on, most of you saw this coming:P **

**If I may, I'd advise you to keep reading, because you may be surprised…**

**Read on, the choice is yours. **

Peeta was speechless. Then again so was I, but that only lasted a few seconds before I was speaking. Well, attempting to.

"How-you…the child…?" I point to him, starting to wake up and opening his eyes groggily, glancing at the three new people who were all focused intently on him. He turns and places his head back on his mothers shoulder, closing his eyes again, not ready to wake up. He seemed uninterested in us, as if he had no idea who we were. Then again, we don't know who he is either. Not confirmed at least.

"I guess I have a lot of explaining to do," she says to us both, and Haymitch takes this as an opportunity to bolt.

He raises his eyebrows and waves, saying, "Lemme know how things go for you honey." Then he's gone. I glance over at Peeta, and there are tears forming in his eyes.

"Did…," he says, voice gone, "is…is he…" he clears his throat, trying to breathe evenly.

"I honestly don't know…" She looks so apologetic, but really, who else's could he be? I saw those eyes. They were the wrong shade of blue, but they were still blue. "I came here for several reasons," she continues. "But I did my research. I know who you are, about the Hunger Games, and that you're married. I didn't come here looking for a father for my child," she says, tightening he arms around the precious thing, almost protectively. Something released inside of me and I was able to breathe calmly again, thankful this woman wasn't going to be a threat to us.

"Sit down. Tea?" I ask, wondering exactly how lavish her life must be. Was she poor, like I was used to be my whole life, or was she well provided for living in the capital?

"I'd like that," she murmurs in response, taking her seat on the couch. The one Peeta and I had just made love on, and I realize exactly how quickly the scenery had changed. Only moments ago we were still intertwined, and now the biggest game changer I could've imagined just walked through the door, obviously about to turn our lives upside down.

"Here," I hand her the tea and sit down next to her, keeping a reasonable distance. Peeta sits on the love chair across from us; hands clasped tightly together, eyes locked on the child in awe.

The woman began to speak, noticing our discomfort and curiosity. "When I first became a sex slave in the capital, it wasn't by choice." She takes a sip of her tea. "They took me from my home while my parents were out, stripped me down and threw me in a room with a strange man." She stops and glances at him. He rubs his face. "Only now do I realize he was a victim too."

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I thought you were a caller, I just did as I was originally told," he says, rubbing his face more, trying to comprehend that this was all really happening. I tried so hard to keep that pricked my eyes from spilling over.

"It was all a sick game to them," she says, tears welling up in her eyes. "My virginity meant nothing to them, it was just a new show, something to spice their lives up for a little while," she mutters, kissing the child's hair before returning to her story.

"I'm sorry if you don't know who I am," she whispers to me.

"I do," is all I say, nodding, and standing to sit next to Peeta, to take his hand. He needed comfort, because in this moment I could feel his pain from all the way over here. He squeezed my fingers, the woman continued.

"My name is Ira, and this is Sumpter… I like to think he's yours, because he looks like you and you were the only man who showed me one ounce of respect since I was brought into that hellhole, but I still have no way to be sure. There were plenty of blue eyed blond haired men," she says, voice dropping, a few tears falling from her cheeks. The child still remained still, probably asleep once more.

"Why have you come, after these years, why now?" Peeta questions, looking between us both.

"I had nowhere else to go… As soon as I had Sumpter I was released, no longer an asset with such a physical change and another human to care for." She closes her eyes and runs her fingers through Supmter's hair, "My family had disappeared. I tried living on my own, but life was hard. I had nobody, the capital saw to that. I thought of trying to find you, since you were the only other person in this world who I had seen decency from, respect," she pauses, and gives me a small smile, "Katniss, I mean no harm to your marriage," and I know how awful her life must've been. I know because they did this to Peeta too, and god knows how many others. Their destinies just ended up intertwining somehow, and I wasn't about to deny her help.

"Don't be so apologetic," I tell her, "we'll get to the bottom of this." Though I'm not exactly quite sure what I was talking about, I made it clear that she wasn't going to be alone forever. She smiles gratefully at us both, and Peeta smiles too, and the tears fall down his cheeks, powerful emotion erupting. I know he was hoping it wasn't his for the sake of this love we share, but I knew he was also hoping it _was _his because it would be worse it was another mans, a heartless man.

"You're welcome to stay here until you can get on your feet," Peeta says warmly, standing up and taking her hand. Then he touches Sumpter for a moment, looking at him, almost as if he would know if he was his just by looking. "Will you agree to a paternity test?" Peeta says after a moment.

Ira takes a deep breath and nods, "of course I will. It's time the world knew," she says quietly. Peeta thanks her, and stands up, putting his jacket back on.

"Unfortunately, work calls, but I promise I'll only be gone no longer than ten minutes," he says to us. Still, leaving us both alone like this… I can only imagine how he must feel. So he says, "Would…either of you…like to join me?"

"No…I think I'll stay here," I say, assuring, "I'll get to know Ira better." I stand and kiss his cheeks, trying to let him know things are going to be okay. He nods, and leaves in a rush.

"So, how's that tea?" I question as I turn around, knowing I've never been a social person. I wasn't friendly in the least bit, and I know I came off as bitchy to people who hardly knew me, but I needed to try hard with this woman. Of all the people I've met who have suffered, her story was crucial to Peetas life, therefore crucial to my life too.

"Great, it's really…authentic," she grins, wiping away her tears in an attempt to cheer up.

"It's my mother's recipe, completely original," I tell her.

"Mommy…," Sumpter mumbles rubbing his eyes and starting to come back to reality, very slowly. His little face was so precious, his little button nose and pink lips. My heart felt tight, and I knew I recognized those eyes. I just hoped, and prayed to myself, that it was a coincidence.

"Yes baby?" she says softly, pulling back to look down at him.

"Did we find daddy?" he says, and even though he was still just a baby, I can only imagine how much pain he's experienced in his short life. I covered my mouth to keep from overreacting, but this was terrible. It was just so sad.

"Not sure yet," she chuckles nervously, "but Katniss and Peeta are going to help okay?" she gestures to me and he looks at me shyly, hiding in his moms shoulder after taking a look at me.

"How old is he?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Three. Just turned a week ago," she says happily, taking the hint that it wasn't time to cry anymore. He was awake now, and for his sake we needed to remain optimistic.

"Wow," I say in astonishment. Then something occurs to me, and I regret not thinking it over before I said it. "May I ask how old you were…when you and Peeta…met?" I ask, mentally slapping myself afterward. To my surprise she laughed, almost like it was a bad joke, but I could see the hatred in her eyes, for the capital of course.

"Sixteen," she answers, "I was small for my age. Still am I guess," she says, and I feel like the ice-breaking process was going smoothly.

"I'm glad you weren't as young as most would've assumed," I tell her honestly.

"Yeah I guess. Still, nobody wants to have a kid at that age," she shrugs, like it was too late to complain about it now. "Then again, if I didn't, where would I be? Sumpter is my life, nothing would be the same," she murmurs, quieter.

"Are you tired?" I ask, noticing the bags under her eyes.

She nods guiltily, "It was a long trip," she admits.

"Well you're welcome to get some rest; we have a guest bedroom big enough for the both of you, but insist you join us for dinner." And I have to admit to myself, this would be the first time Peeta and I would eat dinner with anyone else, and man would that be awkward. But what was I supposed to do? Keep her confined in her room?

"Oh I couldn't possibly," she holds her hand up.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Transportation departing at a specific time?" She looks down and remains silent, and this goes on for several moments before she replies quietly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"No."

"Then you'll stay here," I tell her, standing up and motioning for her to follow me. I lead her to the room at the end of the staircase, down the hallway we never went down. The room was simplistic, twin sized bed with two bedside tables and a few different sized dressers. Typical guest bedroom.

"I can't thank you enough," Ira says, and I realize now exactly how tired she must be.

"Dinner will be in a few hours," I give her a warm smile before leaving back to the living room to process what just happened.

"Where is she?" Peeta asks as he comes back through the door, hanging his coat on the hook and taking my hand. "I don't know what to say…"

"She's getting some sleep in the guest bedroom, and we'll get her when it's time for dinner."

"Katniss," he starts.

"Don't apologize for anything. Even if Sumpter isn't yours we're still going to help her, because as of now we're all she has in the world."

He nods, "I hope you know what kind of opportunity this is for you."

"What do you mean?" I question.

"I mean Sumpter. Better get good practice in, because we'll have one of our own soon."


	18. The sexy CEO

Screaming. It jolted my entire body, and scared me shitless. I don't know if the screaming had been going on before, or if it just started now, but it had just startled me awake. I tried thinking about what it could possibly be when it happened again. It was a child, and it wasn't a threatening scream, it was just high pitched noises as he threw a fit. Oh, Sumpter!

I rolled to my side to shake Peeta awake, remind him of our new…housemates. But he wasn't there. The sunlight streamed through the window and the sheets were pushed aside where Peeta had left the bed. The clock said nine o' clock. Oh god…will I wake up like this every morning with a child…?

I stood and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it. After pulling some clothes on and putting my hair up in a pony tail I headed downstairs. I didn't have time for my braid; I wanted to see why Sumpter wouldn't stop screaming, and why Peeta wouldn't do something to help. You'd think Ira would have learned how to control her child by now.

But when I got downstairs I realized I'd misconstrued the situation. Sumpter wasn't throwing a fit. He was only playing. There was the hugest smile on his face and he giggled uncontrollably, Peeta holding him upside down by his ankles and dropping him onto the couch softly. Ira was sitting at the table, eating a piece of toast like she's never had toast before, smiling at the two.

There was a tinge of jealousy in my heart at that moment, but it was quickly flooded over with happiness. Peeta hasn't looked so happy in nearly a year, aside from the times we make love of course, but our sex life can't be everything. It was amazing to see him so clean and pure after only recently getting his memory back just in the beginning of the winter. But it was time for spring, it was a time for rebirth. I just hope to god that this child had a father somewhere, and he wasn't here, chasing him in circles around the couch.

"Katniss, you're awake," Ira exclaims, smiling at me. I give her a smile back, and I hope it doesn't look too forced. I like her, but it's hard for me to warm up to anybody, much less a stranger we took in so easily.

"I hope you slept well," I ask her, pouring myself a glass of water.

"Better than I have in weeks." I can't help but give her a genuine smile this time, we are doing a good thing, after all. "Sumpter just had to wake up at eight though," she rolls her eyes and chuckles like _what are you gunna do? _She was handling his single poor mother thing pretty well.

"So…do you have clothes…or belongings? When you came here you kinda came empty handed," I shrugged, sitting next to her. Peeta hadn't yet noticed I had come down, but I didn't want to distract them. I don't think Sumpter had had this much stimulation in a long time.

"Well we weren't counting on staying," she says, "but I have a few things. I'll book a train ride as soon as possible," she says. But I can see that she must be under a lot of pressure. It was obvious she was out of money, and this train ride was going to put her into debt.

"Don't worry about it. Wherever you live, we'll handle the transportation there whenever you want. Perks of being victors, free rides." I say, beginning to prepare myself breakfast.

"I couldn't possibly." I sigh and turn to face her from the sink.

"I insist. It doesn't cost us anything; you're foolish not to take it." And she nods in agreement.

"Sweetheart," Peeta calls breathlessly, "I didn't know you were awake, I would've said goodmorning." He comes over and hugs me from behind for a moment, kissing my cheeks and giving me a tired smile. It looks like Sumpter woke him up and tired him out too.

"You looked like you were having fun," I tell him, "didn't wanna disturb you."

"Peeta!" Sumpter nearly runs into my legs as he charges towards Peeta, "I got you!" He pulls his hand up and forms a finger gun, making fake gun sounds. Peeta pretends he's shot and falls over on the floor. Hey, if he wasn't to lie on that nasty floor, that's his choice.

"Oh boy…" I say to myself, understanding exactly how high maintenance children are, and how weird our situation is. Peeta was good with him, but we just met them yesterday…we don't know if Sumpter is his yet… If he wasn't, Sumpter was still going to be attached to Peeta. Bringing him here couldn't have been entirely a good idea, but it's so hard to botch what we're doing when Ira needs so much help. So I'll consider this a charity deed, and pretend my husband never had sex with her. Even if it was in an act of slavery. I had to continuously remind myself that it was never his choice to begin with.

"I know, you're lucky you have a choice," she says to me. "It wasn't exactly like I conceived on my honeymoon somewhere on a tropical island, on a beach…" she sighs, watching them return to they're roughhousing. "How could they let so many men do that to me…?" She turned to me. "Why should they be allowed to not use a condom if they pleased?" I looked down.

"They're sick. Like you said, it was an entertainment act," I say, "And sure, I have a choice to let him use a condom or not, but I didn't try to get pregnant either. And Peeta and I have never been on a honeymoon." I return to making my breakfast, and I'm nearly finished when I realize she was silent, and staring at me.

"What?" she says as I notice her, almost like she couldn't believe what I'd just said.

"I was just gunna ask the same thing…"

"You're pregnant?"

"Oh…yes," I say. To my surprise she laughs and wraps her arms around me. I had thought this hug was going to be awkward, but honestly it felt nice. It felt safe, since she wasn't going to hurt anything we had.

"It's obvious he'll be a great father," she says as we pull away, looking towards them.

"Yeah…"I sigh. "I got lucky."

"I hope I did too…" she says, quietly. For a moment I think she's talking about Peeta until I notice she's not with me anymore. She's lost in her own world, thinking about someone else.

"Was there a man in your life?" I ask her in a softer tone, wondering exactly why she hadn't gone to him and not us.

"Well…sort of," she blushes and looks away. I grin, like a teenage girl. I hadn't had the teenage life I realize now that I'd wanted. I had to work at such a young age.

"Tell me about him," I urge, sitting down, eating my food in anticipation. She sighs in defeat, turning towards me fully.

"Well he's how I did my research on you. I wouldn't have known how to find you without him, and I wouldn't have had the money for the train ride here," she says, smiling at the thought of him. "He says he lived in district 12 his entire life, and if this place wasn't so small he wouldn't have known enough about you to tell me that he knew that you and Peeta were married, lived in the victors' village." Lived here? I must have known him!

"Where were you living before?" I ask. "When you met him, did you live in the capital?" I had never known someone from district 12 to live in the capital, but with this newfound democracy, I guess anything can happen…

"No, I had been living in district 2. He was working as a weapon manufacturer but ended up taking over one of the companies, became the CEO," she explains. "I met him then. Sumpter was fascinated with guns, and I had to keep him away from the peacekeepers weaponry shops. One day I turned around to buy some food, probably fruit I don't remember, and when I turned around he was gone. Thankfully I knew where the closest shop was, and he did too, so when I got there I found him, talking to a strange man." She looks at him like the naughty child he must be, but his face was just too sweet to stay angry at. I already had a soft spot in my heart for Sumpter.

"They were outside the shop, and Sumpter wasn't afraid, which is rare because a lot of men scare him," she explains.

"So the CEO of a peacekeepers weaponry company was just coincidentally standing outside that shop when Sumpter showed up?" I question.

"Not _a _weaponry company, _the _weaponry company," she points a finger at me. "Every peacekeeper you've ever seen is carrying one of his weapons. Well, I guess since he took over about a year ago."

"Does he have a name?" I ask. She chuckles, and I know there's something.

"I would imagine he does, but I never did learn what it was. I simply called him by his office name." She shrugs. "But I wasn't in a position to question his authority when he had my kid in his hands, so I listened to what he had to say."

_"These shops are dangerous ma'am."_

_ "I know sir, I'm sorry, but he just can't seem to stay away," I explained to him. _

_ "Kid tells me he loves guns," he says, laughing a little. I nodded. _

_ "He does." _

Ira stops, and I ask her what's wrong.

"I didn't know what it was about him…his eyes…but he made me want to tell him everything. We ended up meeting the next night, he bought us dinner," she says. "That was when he asked me if there was a father in Sumpter's life, noticing that he and I were alone. I ended up telling him everything," she pauses, "even Peeta."

_"You say his name is Peeta?" he asks me. _

_ "Yes," I tell him._

_ "You mean…hunger games victor Peeta…?" he questions, leaning forward on the table like my answer could mean anything to him._

_ "He…he was in the games?" _

"Of course I hadn't known about that. I refused to watch the games. Senseless violence, which is why I don't understand where Sumpter acquired his fascination for weapons," Ira sighs.

"He's a child, he'll move onto the next fascination sooner or later," I reassure. Anyway, she continued with her story.

"_He was. Tragic story really," he pauses, like he knew personally, "his lover Katniss and he were both from district 12. I grew up with them." He takes a sip of his water and motions for the waiter to come over. This restaurant was fancy, fancier than I've ever been to before, and I was thankful that Sumpter was asleep in my arms. It was his favorite place to be. _

"_You know Peeta?"_

"_Odds are he lives in the victor village with Katniss. They're married now."_

"_Were they married…when…I knew him?"_

_ "Not that I know of, but they were together," he says to me. "I don't know much about him, but if he is the father of your child, I don't doubt he would do something to help you out, miss," he smiles at me, and it's a smile like nothing I've ever seen before. "He's a kind man."_

_ "I know," I whisper. _

_ "Here," he sighs, putting a train ticket on the table in front of me. "I've been saving this for a raining day, but I will never need it as badly as you do now." _

"And that's how you got here," I say after she finishes her story.

"Yep, and since then, I can't get him out of my head. There was just something about him…"

"Sounds like you have a little crush." I grin, reassured that Peeta wasn't what Ira had came for. She came for the sake of honesty and to find out if Sumpter really was his or not.

"Maybeee…" she blushes.

"Do you think you'll ever see him again?" I question, interested in her story.

"Well…he did give me this. If I wanted to see him again all I had to do was ask for him at the headquarters down the road from where I lived," she takes something out of her pocket and sets it on the counter in front of me.

I studied it for a moment, seeing that it was a pin, almost like a nametag, but something that ancient American soldiers used to wear so that they could be identified as a certain rank, but slightly modified. I read what it said.

_Chief Executive Officer Hawthorne, of the Second District _


	19. Paternity test results

Peeta is exhausted. It's seven at night, and now that Sumpter has finally passed out so has Peeta. Ira has decided to get to sleep too; we've made plans to travel to the capital tomorrow. It's the only place to arrange a safe and successful paternity test, the others are all…dangerous and invalid. We leave early tomorrow morning, nearly five o 'clock am.

"Peeta," I whisper, poking his shoulder and trying to urge him awake. I haven't had a moment alone with him all day, he cannot be tired right now!

"Hmmm," he hums, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close, kissing my hair and readjusting himself.

"We haven't had a moment alone all day," I tell him. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, knowing I won't let him sleep.

"I know. I'm sorry. I Just need to make sure this starts off right…so if he really is mine…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I interrupt, still dubious of it. I won't be convinced until I see the results myself. I sit up and look in the other direction, avoiding the conversation.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking my hand. "I am."

"Not your fault," I shrug, not even sure if I believe it myself.

"No, but that doesn't mean I did anything right, either. They made me someone else, it's not that I had to do what they said…but it got to the point where I just didn't care anymore. I wasn't me," he says, "but I'm me now. And if he's my son I won't abandon him." I turn to look at him. He always has to one-up me. He's always right, no matter the situation, I always have to give him props because he knows what he's doing.

"I love you," I say, lying back into his arms and pressing my lips against his. He sighs and pulls the blankets up, snuggling down and holding me tighter. He smiles.

"We never have time to cuddle anymore. We're too busy loving on each other like bunnies," he chuckles, stroking my hair as I turn around; he hugs me from behind and I'm more comfortable that I have been for a while.

"I can't help it. My body wants things it's never wanted before," I shrug, tracing his fingers intertwined with mine.

"I love it," he whispers. "Every man's dream." He pauses, and we're silent for a moment. He lets his fingers trail down to my abdomen, and stops there, pressing against it. "You're showing," he comments, grinning. I suck in a deep breath. Damn, he'd noticed. I mean I know I'd not had my period now for weeks…but it's a sure fact, I was definitely with child.

"I know…"I answer.

"It's going to go faster from here," he assures. "This is the easy part."

"I don't see how that's possible… I won't even be able to hunt," I say, considering something I've had to consider. Surely the people will understand the lack of game for a few months knowing I'm pregnant, but I'm still not okay with it. We've helped a lot, but leaving them alone is hardly an option. It's not impossible, but it'll still be hard. They won't hold it against me or blame me, but I'll still feel guilty.

"Those people can provide for themselves. They did it the whole time we were in the games and on tour, they can do it for a few more months sweetheart," he says, moving the hair out of my face and kissing my neck lovingly.

"What do you want…a boy or a girl," I question, closing my eyes and letting myself fall into his tough.

"I want whatever we're going to have… In all honesty, I would be content with a boy because I'll be able to talk to him like a man and raise him the way I was raised, and I would be content with a girl because I'll be able to see the softer side of childhood, raise her in a house full of art and colors," Peeta continues kissing my neck, all the while creating beautiful image in my head.

"What about names?"

"Oh wow…I don't know," he chuckles. "Griffin for a boy…and for a girl…I've actually thought a lot about this…" he trails off. I turn to face him, placing my hand on his cheek and kissing his lips softly.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I want to name her Primrose." He waits for my reaction, squeezing my hand.

"Okay," I whisper in response.

"Do you want this too? Or would you like to pick a new name…"

"I need it," I answer. "I need to name our daughter Primrose." It is the thing I am surest about, aside from my love for this child and my husband, of course.

/

We ride to the capital in silence for the first few hours while we catch up on our sleep. But that is short-lived, because Sumpter wakes just as the sun starts to rise. The sound of him running down the hallway jolts Peeta awake and it's then that I see he's sweating. He looks to me frantically.

"Oh Katniss," he sighs, holding me tightly. He's trembling, and I'm unsure what to do but just hold him back.

"What's wrong…? I'm here," I answer, remembering do this same thing to Prim so many years ago on so many nightmarish and sleepless nights.

"I was dreaming," he says. He pulls back and kisses me, and he doesn't let go. He kisses me hard and I can feel the desperation in his movements. When he finally pulls away I see the tears running down his face.

"What's the matter," I whisper, wiping them away.

"I dreamt we were still back in the arena. I can't tell you Katniss…leading them to you was the most…I can't even…," he stutters, starting to hyperventilate. I stroke his arms and his hair, trying to calm him down. After all time, I was foolish to think our first time in the games would not haunt us.

"What are you talking about?" I ask quietly, tucking myself in his arms, just to show I'm here and I won't leave, ever.

"The tributes from districts one and two…they were hunting you and I led them to you, even if it was to protect you…I still brought them to you…I can't tell you how terrified I was when I thought they'd had you trapped. I thought I was going to lose you…and it would've been my fault..." he starts sobbing, taking in short jagged breaths and holding me tighter.

"You really think they could hurt me?" I joke softly. "I was never going to die. I promise you, I will be here forever. I'm here," I place a kiss on his hand, and after a few minutes the tears slow, his chest stops heaving, and we're at peace. That is until we hear Sumpter knocking at our door, asking if Peeta can come out and play with him.

/

Peeta gets his blood drawn. That's the only way, unfortunately, and I know doing the same for Sumpter will be a nightmare. But when Peeta does it then it's like a learning experience for him, give him a bit of confidence.

"See? Doesn't hurt a bit," Peeta grins as the guy pierces his vein. I have to admit, Peeta is doing a spectacular job. He's used to pain, a needle won't faze him. Still, Sumpter was only three…needles are a child's worst nightmare. I would know, I was hesitant at holding bow at first, but I guess you get used to it.

"Okay…" Sumpter mumbles nervously. Ira holds him tightly on her lap as the man finishes up with Peeta. After untying the tourniquet around his arm, they tie one around Sumpter. He starts to panic, but Peeta and Ira both assure it will be fine.

"Sumpter do you want to find daddy," Peeta asks the teary eyed boy. He nods slowly and shyly.

"Yeah…"

"Then you have to be a big boy for us and close your eyes. Think about happy things, chocolate, and cupcakes," Peeta instructs. Sumpter closes his eyes and giggles at the thought.

"I _love_ cupcakes! _Chocolate _cupcakes!" he exclaims. I grin at him, that's just adorable. Despite the place we were in, for a three year old he was doing pretty good so far. It was a regular clinic in the capital, fancy metallic chairs in the waiting room, bright colored walls in all the examination rooms in the back of the building. Our room was bright yellow, and our doctor had bright pink hair that flowed down his back in a long braid, almost like mine except far more extravagant. Mine was just too…simple. I don't know how you can make a braid look so fancy, but he does it.

"Tell you what," Peeta says as he kneels in front of Sumpter, "I'll make you your own chocolate cupcake if you don't fight the doctors and let them take your blood. I think it's well worth it." He leans in and whispers in his ear. "I make the best cupcakes _ever."_

"It's true," I say. They look up at me; this is the first time I've really spoken since we've gotten here. "Peeta owns the bakery in town, he's very talented," I say, smiling a bit, just hoping we can get this over with as soon as possible.

"See? He's a professional cupcake maker," Ira says with a smile. Sumpter grins and eagerly jumps up on his mother's lap. Of course, his expression changes when the doctor turns around with the needle. Peeta covers his eyes.

"Don't look! You'll turn to stone!" he exclaims quickly on a whim. We both give him _'really?' _looks. He shrugs awkwardly.

"Yeah…" Ira starts, "If little boys look at the needle they'll turn to stone…" This is not going well. I get the doctors attention to hurry things up.

"Alright Sumpter, this may pinch a little," the man says as he places the needle where it needs to go. Sumpter whimpers. Despite all the death I've seen and all the pain I've felt, I can't help but look away. I hate, I absolutely hate, when children are in pain.

But soon the worst is over, and he's surprisingly fast. Sumpter isn't crying as hard and as loudly as I'd imagined, and it only takes about five minutes to calm him down. All it takes is some encouraging words.

"So, how long do you suppose until we get the results?" I ask the doctor as he finishes up the paperwork.

"Oh, I'd say about ten minutes," he says with a friendly grin. He shakes all of our hands, even Sumpter's, and leaves after he says "be back shortly!"

As soon as he's all out of the room we all take in an audible sigh. The worst was over…hopefully. After a few seconds of silence, we all take a seat. Peeta holds my hand tightly, tighter than comfortable but I wouldn't have it any other way. He has been so strong the past few years, it's been so long since I've seen him this vulnerable. The last time he looked this way was when he was on the floor of a cave, a leg wound threatening to take his life.

"I hope you're my daddy…" Sumpter whispers, so low I almost don't hear it. Ira looks shocked, and looks up at me apologetically. I give her a nod, saying it's okay. She holds him the way she did when we first met, and I can tell he's tired. He's falling asleep in his mother's arms, sucking his thumb.

"Even if I'm not, I'll still make you cupcakes alright?" Peeta smiles at him and Sumpter give a little nod before finally winking off to sleep.

A few more minutes go by before I realize his eyes are glistening. Ira has her eyes closed, and she's rocking Sumpter back and forth softly. She doesn't notice us.

"It's going to be okay," I whisper, stroking his cheek. Peeta nods and smiles softly but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm just so nervous…" he says in the same hushed tone.

"I know," I answer, not sure if saying anything could make the situation better.

Quicker than expected, the doctor comes back in, holding a manila folder. We all stand up simultaneously in anticipation.

"Alright! The results are right here in this folder," he holds the folder up, "would you like me to tell you if Mr. Mellark is Sumpter's father or would you like to read it for yourselves?"

Peeta immediately holds his hand out, "I'd like to read it." The doctor nods and hands him the folder.

"I'll leave you to…" he trails off. "When you're finished you can keep the extra copy of the results, if not just leave it in the folder. Leave the folder in the slot outside the door," he instructs, trying to keep a good attitude. "It was nice meeting you." And he's gone.

Peeta holds the folder in his hands, visibly trembling.

"It will be okay," I say again for the millionth time. I kiss his cheek softly, knowing to watch my public display of affection around the child. "I promise."

He nods and slowly opens the folder, reading each line carefully, his back to us. I see graphs and charts, words and numbers, but I can't make sense of them at a glimpse-distance.

"What does it say?" Ira says after a moment.

"It…"he looks down, thinking. He closes the folder and turns around, his face and his expression almost somewhat uneasy. My heart stops, and I wait.

"It's not me," he says, looking at Sumpter, "I'm not his father."


End file.
